


Things That Seem

by Maeglin_Yedi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Anal Sex, Animagus Harry Potter, Blow Jobs, First Time, Good Draco Malfoy, HP: EWE, Half-Blood Prince AU, Hand Jobs, Humor, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Oblivious Harry Potter, Potions Accident, Potions Class, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeglin_Yedi/pseuds/Maeglin_Yedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A potion gone wrong. A desperate wish. A new future. And a...horse? </p>
<p>Not compliant with HBP and DH (written and first published in 2004)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Seem

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, others implied  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings/category: AU, humor, first-time  
> Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns these characters. 
> 
> Summary: A potion gone wrong. A desperate wish. A new future. And a...horse? 
> 
> A/N: Written for By Starkiller for the [Merry Smutmas fic exchange.](http://www.livejournal.com/community/merry_smutmas/)
> 
> Big thanks to Gina for the wonderful and speedy beta!
> 
> Word count: 22448  
> First published: December 2004

"Five points from Gryffindor. Now stop staring at Granger and finish your own brew."

Harry wanted to kill Snape. It was all his fault for pairing him with -- 

"Mind the shrivelfigs, Potty. I won't have you mucking up my potion."

Harry wanted to kill Malfoy as well. Stab that little ferret with the knife he was currently peeling shrivelfigs with. 

What on earth had possessed Snape to pair him with Draco Malfoy, Harry would never understand. But there he was, working side by side with Malfoy on a Memory Potion. Or rather, they were supposed to be working side by side, but at that moment, Malfoy seemed more intent on using Harry as his personal slave, while all Harry could think of was stabbing that bastard. 

Ignoring Malfoy's sneer, Harry grabbed a handful of shrivelfigs and threw them into their cauldron with a splash. 

"What are you doing?" Malfoy shrieked. "Those shrivelfigs are supposed to be pulverized!"

Before Harry could yell back at him, their potion began bubbling, changing from a dull green into a bright yellow. Malfoy jumped back, and even though Harry did not want to follow his example, he too moved away from the cauldron. Steam rose to the ceiling and a moment later their cauldron exploded, covering both of them in a thick, slimy substance. 

"Well, well," Snape said once the steam had cleared. Harry pulled off his stained glasses and glared at Snape's blurred face. "It seems that even with the help of this class' most talented potions brewer you are unable to get it right. Detention tonight, Potter!"

Harry snorted and glanced to his side. Malfoy was glaring at him, but the effect was lost because of the thick, yellow drops that dripped down his pointy nose.

*~*~*~*~*

"I can't believe you got detention in our first week," Hermione said.

Harry stared at her in disbelief. "You were there. You saw what happened."

Hermione glanced down at her shoes. "Yes. The instructions clearly said that the shrivelfigs were supposed to be pulverized."

"I can't believe you!" Harry threw his hands up in the air and paced in front of the common room's fireplace. "Snape paired me with Malfoy on purpose, just to get me in trouble."

"But it wasn't Malfoy who blew up your cauldron," Hermione said softly. Harry gritted his teeth in response. 

"Mate, but you managed to cover Malfoy in goo," Ron said. His eyes misted over. "God, I wish I could've seen that."

"That's not the point," Harry muttered. 

"If you really think Snape is mistreating you, then you should report it to Professor McGonagall," Hermione said with a small smile. 

Harry snorted. "She got me into Potions in the first place. I don't think she'll appreciate me whining about it in our first week."

"Look at it this way," Ron said with a grin. "You get to sabotage Malfoy's potions until Christmas."

"And a lot of good that will do me." Harry sighed and glanced at the clock. "I have to go. Don't wait up for me."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry didn't think he'd ever felt this alone before. Yes, he'd felt horribly lonesome during the summer holidays, but that was to be expected. The Dursleys had ignored him, and Grimmauld Place had seemed so empty now that Sirius was...gone.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry crushed the beetle eyes. As he reached for the ladle, he knocked over a jar of toad bile, which spilled across his Potions textbook. 

Sighing, Harry wiped most of it away and tried to decipher how many spoons of crushed beetle eyes he had to add. 

Not that it mattered. Even if he got the potion right, Snape would still snarl at him once he came back to release him from his detention. 

Harry had expected to feel better once he returned to Hogwarts. He had his friends here to support him and his classes to distract him. But that gnawing, empty feeling in his chest that had bothered him all summer had only increased once he'd set foot inside the castle again. 

Harry peeked at the stained text. Was it eight spoons of crushed beetle eyes and seven drops of toad bile? It looked like it, so with a shrug, Harry added exactly that to his potion. 

Nothing happened. 

Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Harry grabbed the ladle and started stirring. According to the text, the potion should turn blue now, but no matter how much Harry stirred, it remained a dull beige. 

When had his life turned into a complete mess? Harry thought back to the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries three months ago. But that hadn't been it. Things had gone wrong for him long before that. 

He had brought Voldemort back in his fourth year. He'd been unable to help Sirius in his third year. He'd let Lucius Malfoy get away with everything in his second year. And he'd let Voldemort escape in his first year. 

He hadn't even been able to kill Voldemort all those years ago, when his parents had sacrificed their lives for him. 

Harry stirred viciously and released a deep sigh. "I wish none of this had ever happened," he whispered. 

His potion gave a loud burp, and a warm splash of what was supposed to be a Memory Potion landed on Harry's face. Harry jumped back, tripped over his bag and fell to the floor, his head colliding with the hard stones. 

Harry managed to blink once, twice, and then the world turned black around him.

*~*~*~*~*

When Harry came to, his head hurt and his eyesight was blurry. Damn, he hoped Snape hadn't returned to find him passed out on the floor of the Potions classroom.

Sitting up, Harry rubbed his eyes and realized that his glasses were gone. They must have slipped off when he fell. Harry felt around for them and noticed that there was something wrong with the floor. There were supposed to be cold stones, but he felt a lush carpet beneath his fingers. 

Harry blinked and looked around the room. 

This was definitely not the Potions classroom. 

It was someone's living room. A nicely-decorated living room with a blue couch, wooden furniture and a large fireplace with dozens of picture frames on the mantel. 

Harry wondered if it was possible to accidentally apparate, even though he didn't know how to apparate yet. 

But somehow, he'd landed himself in someone's living room. 

Scrambling to his feet, Harry realized his eyesight was sharp, though he wasn't wearing his glasses. Perhaps it was also possible to accidentally correct your eyesight. Harry looked around the room again. He had no idea where he was, but he knew he had to get back to Hogwarts. 

God, if Snape returned now and found the classroom empty, Harry'd be in detention until the end of the year. 

"Hello?" Harry called, hoping someone would answer. And then he realized that whoever lived here might not react well to a stranger in their living room, and he reached for his wand. "Anyone there?"

But no reply came, so Harry carefully stepped closer to the fireplace. A large, framed poster of the Chudley Cannons hung above it, which meant that whomever lived there at least knew about the wizarding world. Which was good, Harry reasoned. At least he wouldn't have to try to explain to any Muggles how he'd ended up there. As Harry stared at the poster, he thought their Seeker looked an awful lot like him. Odd that Ron had never mentioned that. 

Next, Harry turned to the many pictures on the mantel. Perhaps if he recognized someone in them, he'd figure out where he was. 

Harry's wand clattered to the floor. He did recognize someone. Himself. 

Gasping for breath, Harry reached for a picture of Sirius and himself. Sirius grinned and waved at him. Harry replaced it and picked up another picture. Sirius, Lupin and himself. The next frame held a picture of a child. Definitely a Weasley, but no one Harry recognized. And there was a picture of his parents, but they looked so much older than in any of the pictures Harry had ever seen before. 

In the middle of the mantel stood a picture of Draco Malfoy. With his arm around Harry. Malfoy was dressed in Falmouth Falcons robes while Harry was wearing a Chudley Cannons outfit. 

And then Draco turned his head and kissed Harry right on his lips. 

Harry dropped the picture frame, jumped back, and felt his entire body shift. Someone must have hexed him, because he no longer felt his fingers or toes, and it seemed as if his body bent over so he was standing on his hands and feet. 

"Stop!" Harry yelled. "I'm here by accident!" 

The only sound that echoed through the room was a strange snorted whinny. Harry glanced down and saw a pair of hooves. Then he glanced over his shoulder and saw a large, brown back sticking out. 

There was an animal attached to him!

Harry wanted to move away, but the moment he took a step back, he felt something against his ankles. It crushed with a loud crack when Harry took another step back, and when he moved forward again, he somehow knocked all the pictures on the mantle over with his chin. Harry darted to the right, felt something snap beneath his feet, and moved forward over the couch, which groaned beneath his weight. 

He had to get out of there. Someone had hexed him and Harry had no idea what was going on. He found the hallway, but when he wanted to reach for the doorknob, his arm refused to work. Harry glanced down again, and saw a hoof scraping across the carpet. 

That moment, the doorbell chimed. 

Harry inhaled a sharp breath and felt his body shift again until he slumped to the floor with a dull thud. 

"Harry?" a voice called. "You all right in there?"

He knew that voice. But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Harry reached for the doorknob, pulled the door open, and stared up into Sirius' face. 

"Tough night?" Sirius asked, quirking an amused eyebrow.

"Sirius," Harry gasped. He pushed himself up and flung his arms around Sirius' neck, grateful to finally see something familiar, even though Sirius shouldn't even be alive. 

"Happy Christmas to you, too," Sirius said, giving Harry a bone-crushing hug, which drove all the air from Harry's lungs. He released Harry and moved into the hallway, as if he hadn't just come back from the dead. 

Harry wanted to ask him what was going on, but he was suddenly staring into Lupin's face. And Lupin did the most peculiar thing. 

He kissed Harry. 

Granted, it was only a soft brush of lips against Harry's, but it was still enough to shock Harry into silence. 

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Lupin said with a smile and a wink. 

"P-p-professor," Harry stammered, baffled. 

"You're feeling kinky now?" Sirius said, amusement clear in his voice. "Why don't you meet us in the Leaky Cauldron, Prongs, and give us a few moments alone with your son."

"Over my dead body," an unfamiliar voice said from behind Lupin. Harry's jaw dropped as Lupin joined Sirius and Harry saw his father standing before him. 

"Happy Christmas," his father said, and ruffled his hair. Harry was unable to answer, and took a step back, and another one until he bumped against Sirius. 

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" His father tilted his head, his brow twisting up in a concerned frown. 

"No," Harry whispered, and pushed past Sirius, stepping back into the living room. He wasn't feeling all right at all. He was in a strange house, and both his father and Sirius were alive. And Lupin had kissed him, and Draco Malfoy had kissed him in a picture. 

And why was everyone acting as if nothing was wrong?

"I think someone's a little hung over," Sirius said as he too moved into the living room. "Looks like you had quite the party, Harry." He gestured around the room, and only now did Harry notice that it was a mess. The pictures lay scattered across the floor, the coffee table was broken and the couch was turned over. 

Lupin and James entered the living room; Lupin let out a soft snicker, and his father gave a disapproving snort. "Did you two fight again?"

"I...I'm not...something's...wrong..." Harry stuttered, feeling very light-headed. 

"I'll never understand this machine," a new voice said from the hallway. The door clicked shut and in walked Peter Pettigrew, holding what looked like a mobile phone. 

"That's what you get for dating a Muggle-born," Sirius said. He pushed the couch back over and flopped down on it. "You'll have to learn how to play with their toys." 

Harry's eyes widened. "Wormtail!"

"Hm?" Pettigrew looked up and gave Harry a smile. "Happy Christmas, Harry!" Then he glanced down at the phone again and pushed a few buttons. 

Looking at Sirius, Harry pointed at Pettigrew. "It's Wormtail, Sirius!"

"Yeah, I know," Sirius replied, looking at Harry as if he were mad. "I gave him that name, after all."

"Are you sure you're all right?" his father asked, busying himself with repairing the broken picture frames. 

"No!" Harry yelled. He couldn't understand why no one was reacting to Wormtail's presence. "He's betrayed you! He's betrayed you all!"

"Eh?" Pettigrew looked up from his phone again, seemingly confused. 

"He's a Death Eater!" Harry continued, feeling short of breath. "He's a spy for Voldemort! He's been one all this time!" He wanted to inhale a deep breath, but his body shifted again. 

Pettigrew must have hexed him, Harry thought, as his body bent and he was standing on all fours. 

"Whoa, Harry," Sirius said, getting up from the couch. "Why are you transforming?"

"I don't know what's going on," Harry replied, but he only heard a loud whinny. He stepped back and bumped against something. 

"Careful there," Lupin said from behind him. "You weigh a ton in this body and I like my feet just fine, thanks."

Harry was panicking. There was something wrong with his body. Hell, there was something wrong with the entire world. He tried to stand up on his legs, which caused Sirius and his father to jump back, their eyes wide. 

"Harry, transform back," his father said. 

Transform? What on earth was his father talking about? Why was his father even there? And why was no one immobilizing Wormtail? Harry tried to move forward, but a sudden touch to his neck stopped him. 

"Sshh," his father said, stroking his neck. "Just transform back."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry hung his head, because he couldn't even talk. And what where those bloody hooves doing down there?

"I think he's stuck," Pettigrew said. 

"It seems so," Lupin replied. Harry heard the rustling of fabric behind him. "Let's give him a hand."

Something tingling hit his arse, and Harry's body shifted and shifted until he fell against his father, who wrapped an arm around him and guided him to the couch. 

"What's wrong, Harry?" James asked, sitting down beside Harry. "Why did you transform? You know you can't just transform anywhere you want."

"I didn't..." Harry started, and glanced from his father to Sirius and back. "I transformed?"

"Yep," Sirius said, crossing his arms. "Why don't you remember that you transformed?"

"Did you take a Bludger to the head again?" Lupin asked, standing beside Sirius and tucking his wand away. 

"Huh?" Harry couldn't find the words to describe how confused he felt. 

"Remember the last time he took a Bludger to the head?" Sirius asked, glancing at Lupin. 

"Hm," Lupin said. "Took him two weeks to get his memory back."

"What's your name?" his father asked, placing a hand on Harry's thigh. 

"Harry Potter," Harry answered dutifully. 

"At least he remembers something," Pettigrew said, his phone forgotten in his hand. 

"What's your Animagus form?"

Harry stared at his father in shock. 

"That would be a horse. The one who just almost trampled Moony," Sirius answered for him. 

"Oh, dear," his father said, now patting Harry's knee. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Harry whispered. 

"Definitely a Bludger to the head," Lupin said. 

"You're twenty-six." James gave Harry a small smile. "Perhaps we should take you to St Mungo's."

"I'm a horse?" Harry managed to say. 

"A big Bludger, I'd say," Sirius said to Lupin, who nodded in response. 

"Why are you alive?" Harry asked, staring at his father. "You're not supposed to be alive. You're dead."

"I'll get the Floo powder." Pettigrew tucked his phone away and moved towards the fireplace.

*~*~*~*~*

"What is the last thing you remember, Mr Potter?" the Healer asked, peering deep into Harry's eyes.

"Detention with Snape," Harry answered. "There was something wrong with my potion, and then suddenly I was here."

The Healer pursed his lips for a moment. "There's no brain damage, but it seems he's suffering from temporary amnesia." He smiled at Harry. "You've merely displaced your memories from the last ten years. They'll come back to you."

"Good." James put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "And it's not as if we haven't seen this before."

"Let's hope you still remember how to catch a Snitch," the Healer said with a bright smile. "Can't let those Cannons lose for the first time in eight years, now can we?"

Harry stared at the Healer as if he'd just sprouted another head. 

"You're the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons," Sirius whispered in his ear. "Don't worry, it'll come back."

"But...what about Voldemort?" Harry asked, still awfully confused, even though he was relieved to know he didn't have any brain damage. "What happened to Voldemort?"

"Who?" Lupin asked, tilting his head. 

"Lord Voldemort!" Harry yelled desperately. 

James glanced at the Healer. "Is he hallucinating?"

"Possibly," the Healer replied. 

"No," Harry said. "Voldemort. Tom Riddle."

"Ah, I've heard of Tom Riddle," the Healer said, nodding. "My father went to school with him. Tragic tale, really. Riddle discovered the Chamber of Secrets and got killed by a Basilisk."

"Really?" Lupin asked with a curious frown. 

"Yes, but Hogwarts has always kept that quiet," the Healer continued. "It's never a good thing when a student gets killed."

James nodded his agreement, and Harry stared at the Healer in shock. Tom Riddle got killed? There wasn't a Voldemort? How could there not be a Voldemort?

"Well, come back in about a week. Take some rest, and I'm sure everything will be fine," the Healer said. "I assume you'll find your way out?"

"Yes, thank you," Lupin said. The Healer gave them all a bright smile and left the examination room. 

"Ready to go, Harry?" Sirius asked. "Can't keep your significant other waiting."

"My what?" Harry pushed himself up from his chair. 

"Your boyfriend."

Gasping, Harry lowered himself to the chair again. "My _what?_ "

"Merlin, he's forgotten about his boyfriend, too," Pettigrew said. 

"Your boyfriend," Sirius repeated. "Draco."

"But I'm not gay!" Harry stared up at Sirius, feeling as if someone had punched him in the stomach. "And my boyfriend's Draco? Draco Malfoy?"

"You're most certainly gay, Harry," his father said, patting him on the shoulder. "And yes, you've been seeing Draco for over a decade now."

"Well, on and off," Lupin added. "You don't have the most stable relationship in the world."

"I'm not gay," Harry whispered. "I can't be seeing Draco. I hate Draco Malfoy."

"I can't argue with that," Sirius said with a shrug. "And yet you keep shagging him."

Harry couldn't breathe, and he realized he was on the brink of hyperventilation. "I'm not gay," he gasped. "I'm really not gay."

It was all he could say, because he wasn't gay. He didn't like boys. Or men. He liked women. He'd kissed Cho Chang last year. Of course, that hadn't worked out because Cho had been acting like such a _girl_ \--

"Oh god," Harry moaned. "I can't be gay." 

And before he could say anything else, his body shifted and the chair shattered to pieces beneath his weight. 

"I think he's forgotten how to transform as well," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"Harry," his father said, putting a hand on Harry's neck. "You've transformed again. Just calm down, and you'll be able to transform back."

Harry whinnied. He was gay. And he was a horse. He was a gay horse. He sat on the shattered wood and hung his head. 

"Here, have a look," Lupin said, and flicked his wand at the wall. A life-sized mirror appeared, and as Harry glanced up he saw a horse looking back. A huge, brown horse with a black mane. 

"Wow," Harry said, and heard a snort. He pushed himself up to his feet and walked towards the mirror. It was very odd to see himself as a horse. Also, it was very cool. He bumped his nose against the glass, fogging up the mirror with his breath. 

"You're an Animagus, Harry. Have been since you were sixteen," Sirius said, standing beside Harry and leaning a hand on Harry's shoulders. Harry turned his massive head and glanced at Sirius. 

"We're all Animagi," his father added. "We taught you." And then his father's body morphed and suddenly Prongs stood beside Harry. He was smaller than Harry, though with his antlers he seemed larger. Harry pressed the side of his head against his father's neck and scraped a hoof across the floor. 

And then a bark sounded from his right, followed by a squeak. Padfoot and Wormtail stared up at him. Padfoot seemed very small now that Harry was so big, and Wormtail didn't seem bigger than an insect. Harry was temped to press one of his hooves down on Wormtail, the little traitor, but remembered that there wasn't a Voldemort, and thus Wormtail hadn't betrayed anyone. He lowered his head, released a breath through his nose and blew Wormtail a foot away. 

Lupin snickered. He stood against the wall beside the mirror, his arms crossed as he smiled at them. "I'm not an Animagus. I'm a werewolf, in case you don't remember."

Harry pressed his nose against Lupin's chest, and Lupin stroked his mane. There was something calming about being a horse, Harry thought. It was very reassuring, somehow, to see Prongs and Padfoot and even Wormtail. Harry released a sigh and enjoyed the feeling of Lupin's hands stroking his hair. 

The door swung open and in walked a nurse, carrying a tray. She stared at the animals gathered, released a loud shriek, and threw her tray in the air before she fled the room. 

"Sorry about that," Sirius called the moment he transformed back. 

"I think it's time to go," his father said. "Draco can wait. Let's fill Harry in before we go to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Good idea," Pettigrew agreed. 

Lupin smiled at Harry, pressed his wand against Harry's nose, and muttered something. Harry felt tingly for a moment, and then his body shifted once again. 

He glanced at his father. "Okay, so perhaps I'm a horse. But I really can't be gay."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry stared at the four men sitting on his couch in complete and utter shock. He'd been listening to them for the last half hour, but it was hard to believe a word they were saying. And yet, Harry knew they were telling him the truth. Sirius wouldn't lie to him, and neither would Lupin. And Harry suspected that his father wouldn't tell him anything but the truth, either.

"Okay. So I'm the Seeker for the Chudley Cannons and have been since I joined their team eight years ago. Draco Malfoy's the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons. And we've been...together since our sixth year," Harry said, recounting the things they'd just told him. "And I'm an Animagus. A horse. Why do I keep transforming?" 

"Because while you don't remember how to transform, your body does," his father answered. 

Sirius nodded his agreement. "Yep, so when you're feeling...emotional, you'll release some magic and your body will transform. You really should get that back under control before you hurt someone."

"Stop by our place tomorrow," Lupin said with a smile. "We'll help you get it under control." 

"Okay," Harry said, and glanced at Sirius. "Do you still live at twelve Grimmauld Place?"

Letting out a bark of laughter, Sirius slapped his thigh. "No. I sold that house twenty years ago. We've got a house in Southampton. Just use your Floo."

Harry stared at Sirius for a moment, and then asked in a subdued voice, "Are you with Professor Lupin?"

Sirius grinned, and Lupin shook his head fondly. "No, Harry, I'm not with Professor Lupin. I am, however, shagging Remus and have been since we were sixteen."

A heated blush rose to Harry's cheeks. 

"You call him Remus," his father said, smiling. "And Peter, of course."

Harry gave a faint nod, glad he was sitting down. 

"Anything else, or are you ready to go to your party?" Sirius asked. 

"My party?"

"Yeah, you and Draco are throwing a Christmas party in the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius explained. "You told us you had an announcement to make."

"An announcement?"

His father nodded. "We've placed bets on which one of you is pregnant."

Harry's vision blurred and he felt his body shift again, but Lupin had his wand in his hand at once and stopped Harry from transforming. 

"That was a joke," James said, trying not to grin. "I can't believe you fell for that."

Harry glared at him return. At that moment, he was willing to believe just about anything they told him. Even being pregnant with Draco's...but he wasn't gay, damnit!

"Come on, let's get going," his father said. "Your mother is meeting us there."

"Mum?" Harry felt very light-headed again. 

"Yeah. She had to work today, so she's running a bit late. You know how she gets when it comes to her work."

"Er..." Harry said. "No, I don't think I do." He got up, his legs trembling. "I think I'll use the loo before we go." And without waiting for a reply, Harry hurried through the hallway until he found the bathroom. 

He locked the door behind him, placed his hands on the sink, looked up into the mirror, and gasped. 

There was a man staring back at him. A man who looked an awful lot like him, but still, this was a _man_...not the gangly teenager Harry remembered being. 

He looked so old. Though he was unmistakably Harry. He had unruly, black hair and green eyes. Harry squinted; there wasn't a scar on his forehead. And he wasn't wearing any glasses. 

So this was what he looked like at twenty-six, Harry thought. 

He was a man. And a horse. And gay. 

Harry opened the taps and splashed a few handfuls of water in his face. 

Sirius and Remus looked a lot like Harry remembered them, albeit a bit older. Remus had far more gray hair, and even though Sirius looked better than Harry'd ever seen him, he did have more wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. Even Pettigrew looked like himself, albeit he was almost completely bald. 

And his father...his father looked exactly like the pictures Harry'd seen of him. With more wrinkles and graying hair around his temples. 

Harry glanced at his reflection again. So he was a man now. He couldn't just be a man. There was something very wrong with this world, and Harry was determined to discover what. 

He could only hope he'd invited Ron and Hermione to his Christmas party. 

"Harry?" his father said from the other side of the door. "You haven't transformed again, have you?"

"No." Harry closed the taps, wiped his face dry with a towel, and unlocked the door. "I look old," he said when he stepped into the hallway again. Sirius snickered and slapped him on the back.

"What happened to my glasses?" Harry asked. 

"You got a permanent eye correction about five years ago," his father replied. 

"Ah." 

"Shall we apparate?" Lupin suggested. 

Harry worried his lip. "I don't remember how to –"

"Let's walk," Sirius said, winking at Harry. "It's just down the Alley."

"The Alley?"

"Yes," his father said, opening the front door. "You live in Diagon Alley, Harry. This is your flat, remember?"

"No," Harry muttered, and followed the four men out of what apparently was his home.

*~*~*~*~*

"Look, it's Trotter Potter!"

Harry, who was walking between his father and Pettigrew, glanced to his right and saw two young boys pointing at him. 

"Let's get his autograph!" 

And suddenly, the two boys were pulling on Harry's sleeve and offering him a piece of parchment.

"Will you sign that for us, Trotter?"

"Please? We're huge fans of the Cannons."

"Yeah, you're the bestest Seeker ever."

Harry grabbed the quill and quickly scribbled his name down on the piece of parchment. 

"Thanks!" The two boys spun around on their feet and disappeared in the crowd. 

Narrowing his eyes, Harry turned to his father. "Trotter Potter?"

"Sirius came up with that," James said, grinning. 

"All right, so I had a couple of drinks," Sirius said, glancing over his shoulder at Harry. "We were celebrating you finally managing to transform, and you needed a nickname. Trotter seemed to fit you."

"And then the press ran with that once you became a celebrity," Pettigrew added. 

"Trotter Potter?" Harry said again in disbelief. "Please, don't ever drink again when you have to come up with a name."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "We're here. Now, try not to transform, Harry. You don't want to trample any of your guests."

Harry gave a silent nod and swallowed. There were two things he had to do. First, he had to find Ron and Hermione. And second, he had to tell Draco Malfoy he wasn't gay.

*~*~*~*~*

When Harry learned he'd thrown a party, he imagined a small get-together of some of his friends. But as it turned out, half the wizarding world was gathered at the Leaky Cauldron, or so it seemed.

Harry didn't recognize most of the men and women there, and he gave people a weak smile when they insisted on shaking his hand and clapping him on the back. He followed Sirius and his father to the bar, meanwhile hoping he'd see Ron and Hermione somewhere in the pub. 

Sirius thrust a glass of what looked like beer in Harry's hand, and as Harry sipped it, he saw a few familiar heads of red hair. The Weasleys, as it turned out, and Harry shook their hands and was disappointed to see that Ron wasn't with his parents. 

And then finally, he saw a tall figure with flaming hair that could only be his best friend. Harry put his beer down on the bar, and without saying anything to his father or Sirius, he pushed through the crowd towards Ron. 

"Ron!" Harry resisted the urge to throw his arms around Ron. "Am I glad to see you."

"Harry. How are you?" Ron seemed surprised by Harry's enthusiastic greeting. 

"I really need to talk to you. And Hermione. Is she here?"

Ron nodded. "Yes, she's right there. Is everything all right?" He waved Hermione over, and Harry gaped at her as she approached them through the crowd. 

His friends look so odd. So old. Plus, Hermione looked as if she'd put on quite a bit of weight. 

"What happened to you?" Harry blurted as Hermione gave him a friendly hug. 

"Harry," Hermione said, pulling back from Harry and leaning against Ron. "Have you forgotten I'm due next week?"

"Huh?" Harry stared at Hermione, and then glanced at Ron. "Oh. Ooooh. I must have forgotten that you two are...having a baby."

Hermione's lips tugged up in a radiant smile. "Having our fourth baby."

"Your fourth...?" Harry blinked. "Right. Of course."

"Did you take a Bludger to the head again, mate?" Ron looked at him with a worried curve of his eyebrow. 

"I might have," Harry said, and let out a deep sigh. "I have to ask you something, and it may sound a bit strange."

"Let's have it," Ron said. 

"Am I gay?"

Hermione snorted with laughter, but Ron seemed a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Yeah," he said, his voice giving a squeak. "You are. Why? Did you break up with Draco again?"

"No. I mean, I'm not sure. But I know I'm not gay," Harry babbled, embarrassed by the subject and confused by Ron's response. 

"You are late," a voice suddenly whispered in his ear, and Harry felt two arms slide around his waist. And then a pair of lips pressing a kiss against his throat. "Why are you late to our party?"

Harry whipped around and stared into Draco Malfoy's gray eyes. 

"Look, Malfoy," Harry said, almost stumbling over his tongue. 

"Malfoy?" Draco quirked an annoyed eyebrow. 

"All right. Draco. I'm not gay, okay? So, that thing between us...there is no thing between us, because I'm not gay. I've been thinking I was for the past ten years, but I'm really not. Sorry. See you around."

Draco glanced at Ron and Hermione over Harry's shoulder. 

"He's taken a Bludger to the head," Hermione said helpfully. 

"Again?" Draco stared at Harry as if he were the biggest disappointment he'd ever seen. "Does this mean I have to spend two weeks trying to get that head of yours working again? I can think of better things to do to you."

Harry was at a loss for words. "I'm not gay," he finally managed to say. 

"Oh for..." Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away. Harry just went along, because he had no idea what else to do. 

Draco opened a side door and shoved Harry into what seemed to be a small storage room. The door slammed shut behind them, and Draco stood in front of Harry. 

"How much do you remember?"

Staring at Draco, Harry shifted on his feet and didn't know what to do with his hands. It was surreal to be speaking to Draco Malfoy civilly. It was even more surreal to be stuck in a small room with Draco Malfoy whilst discussing their relationship. 

"I don't remember any of this," Harry said, waving between them. 

"Right. Let me introduce myself, then," Draco said, moving closer to Harry, who took a step back in response. "I'm Draco Malfoy, your devilishly handsome and talented boyfriend, who is better hung than you and a much better Seeker." Draco advanced on Harry, and Harry took another step back. "I was going to save my Christmas present until tomorrow, but under the current circumstances I might as well give it to you now." 

A most peculiar grin crept around Draco's mouth. Harry took another step back and bumped his back against the wall.

"I'm not gay," Harry croaked. 

"We'll see about that," Draco said, and crushed his lips to Harry's. 

Harry froze when he felt Draco's tongue licking across his lips, and he opened his mouth to once again inform Draco that he wasn't like that, but Draco's tongue cut him off as it slid into his mouth. 

"Umph," Harry said, putting his hands on Draco's chest with the intention of pushing him away. 

"Hmmm," Draco replied, and leaned his entire body against Harry's, pressing him to the wall. 

Harry felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, as if he were looking down at himself kissing Draco Malfoy. 

He was snogging Draco bloody Malfoy, and he didn't even like men that way.

"Remember this?" Draco whispered against his lips. 

"No," Harry whimpered, trying to press himself through the wall. 

"Perhaps you'll remember this, then." Draco traveled his hand down Harry's chest, and cupped Harry's cock through his trousers.

"God, Malfoy!" Harry gasped, trying to reach for his wand, but his hand refused to cooperate. 

"I like it when you call me that," Draco said, squeezing his fingers around Harry's prick, which sent an odd warm feeling up Harry's body. It intensified in Harry's chest and shot back to his sac.

And much to Harry's horror he felt his cock harden. Right before his entire body shifted and Malfoy was knocked to the ground, ending up flat on his back between Harry's four hooves. 

"Harry, I thought you never wanted to play like this in public," came Draco's voice from beneath Harry. 

Harry whinnied, desperately trying to think of how he was going to get out of that room when his body was literally trapped between four walls and he couldn't even turn a doorknob.

"Be quiet, or people will hear us," Draco said, and then Harry felt a touch of fingers on his cock. His bare cock.

He jumped in shock, whinnying as loud as he could as he tried to scream from the top of his lungs. 

The door swung open and Sirius stared into the room with an amused smirk. He bent over a bit and tilted his head. "My, you don't have to be a genius to figure out what you two were up to. Getting in touch with your queer side again, Harry?"

Harry lowered his head, looked between his front legs, and saw the biggest cock he'd ever seen. Hanging from _his_ body. Right above Draco Malfoy's crotch. 

Perhaps now was the time for a stampede, Harry thought as he whipped his head up and tried to push himself past Sirius, who jumped to the side. But a firm hand on his nose stopped him.

"Harry, quit it right now before you crush your boyfriend's family jewels," his father said with narrowed eyes.

"What's going on in here?" said an unfamiliar voice from behind his father, and as James stepped aside, Harry looked at the face of his mother. 

His mother. 

He was standing over Draco Malfoy with a huge, hard cock, and his mother was there. 

Harry decided to evacuate the room through one of the walls, and he stomped against the wall pressing to his arse. 

"Lily, why don't you wait for us at the bar," Sirius said with a charming smile while he gently pushed his mother out of the doorway. "This is...men's business."

His father had taken out his wand and flicked it. A tingling spread through Harry, and before he could take out the entire back wall, his body morphed and he fell on top of Draco. 

And right where Harry's own body was showing an inappropriate interest in the situation, Harry felt something hard press against him. And he was quite sure that wasn't Malfoy's wand. 

"Can someone please explain to me what is wrong with my son?"

Harry tilted his head up and saw his mother standing in the doorway. He was sure he saw Sirius give him an apologetic smile from the corner of his eye. Harry snapped his gaze back down, his eyes wide in panic. 

"What?" Draco asked, sliding his arms around Harry's waist, as if he were making himself more comfortable. 

"It's my mum," Harry said through gritted teeth. 

"So? It's not like she hasn't walked in on us before." Draco gave Harry a careless smile and wriggled beneath him. 

Harry stiffened. "Malfoy, that is my knee right there between your legs and unless you want to be singing an octave higher for the rest of your life you will stop touching me, stop acting as if we're together and stop poking your...thing in me!"

"Did they break up again?" Lily asked. 

"Bludger to the head," James replied. 

"Ah. Don't worry, Harry. It'll all come back."

Glaring down at Malfoy, Harry pushed himself up and sat back against the wall, exhausted. He didn't dare look at his father or his mother, and he wished he would just wake up in Snape's classroom with everything back to normal. 

"Is this about you changing your mind? Again?" Draco asked, sitting up as well. 

"Huh?" Harry thought he'd rather take a dozen Snapes screaming at him than have to talk to one Draco Malfoy about anything remotely sexual. 

"Do you still want to move in together?" 

"So that was the announcement," Sirius said, snickering.

Harry drew his knees up and buried his face in his arms. It was too much for him to handle. Sirius alive. His parents alive. Draco Malfoy kissing him. With tongue. 

And then he felt a soft touch to his cheek and he looked up to see Draco staring at him. And Draco looked as if he was genuinely concerned with Harry, and that was perhaps the biggest shock of all Harry'd experienced that day. 

He looked at Draco and shook his head, drained and speechless. 

"You don't remember it, do you?" Draco asked quietly. "You don't remember us deciding to move in together."

"No," Harry said. "I don't remember a bloody thing."

"Perhaps you two should just forget about this party and go home," his mother said. Harry glanced up at her, and felt choked up at the sight of his mother smiling at him. He nodded; he just wanted to get out of there. 

"All right." Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up to his feet. Harry wanted to protest, because while he wanted to get out of there, he didn't want to go anywhere with Malfoy. But Draco left him little choice and pulled him along. 

"We'll see you tomorrow at the match," Draco said with a polite smile to Harry's parents. 

"Of course, dear," his mother replied. "Just take some rest, Harry."

Harry felt too tired to reply; the idea of his mother and father alive and well was still too much to handle. As Draco made their excuses to some of the people they passed, Harry followed him mutely out of the pub, hoping he'd manage to dump Malfoy the first chance he got.

*~*~*~*~*

As it turned out, Harry didn't get a chance to rid himself of Malfoy, and as he stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, trying to remember where he lived, he had to admit he was glad Malfoy was there to point out the correct door.

They walked up two flights of stairs, and then Malfoy gestured at Harry's front door. 

Harry looked at him, nonplussed. 

"Your wand," Draco said, rolling his eyes. 

"Oh." Harry took his wand out of his robes, still unsure what Malfoy meant. With a deep, irritated sigh, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and tapped his wand against the door, which opened with a soft click. 

"Ah. That makes sense," Harry said, and followed Draco inside his own home. A home he didn't remember ever having. 

"Let's talk," Draco said, lowering himself to the couch as if he owned the place. 

"Right," Harry said, sitting down on the other end of the couch with a stiff back and trembling knees. "What about?"

"Us." Draco waved an impatient hand between them. "Get your memory sorted out so we can move on to the good parts."

Harry swallowed. "I really don't remember anything about...us. I don't even remember ever liking blokes. I mean, I'm quite sure I don't like blokes, and I don't remember ever liking you."

Draco stared at him impassively. "You don't remember being attracted to men in the first place?"

Harry shook his head. 

"And you don't remember falling head over heels in love with me?"

His stomach churning, Harry felt a slight tingle of magic run up his spine, and he silently prayed he wouldn't spontaneously transform again. Trying to sort this mess out would be a lot harder if he was a horse. 

"I only remember disliking you," Harry whispered. "I hate you. Don't I?"

Leaning back in the couch, Draco crossed one leg over the other and smirked. "Hate is a big word, Harry. But there's always been some healthy competition between us."

Harry nodded at Draco to go on. 

"I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor. I'm a Malfoy, you're a Potter. We were both Seekers for our House teams. Yes, there was definitely competition between us. But I don't think you've ever hated me." He waved a hand down his own body. "I don't think you were ever able to hate this."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry frowned. He touched his forehead and remembered he didn't have a scar anymore. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived. He never had been. There was no Voldemort, so there were no Death Eaters. The whole world had changed, and Harry had yet to discover all the consequences that had on his life. 

"Were we ever friends?" he asked, remembering Draco's attempt to befriend him in his first year.

"Not really," Draco said. "But we spent an awful lot of time taunting each other and playing pranks. And then you asked me to the Yule Ball in our sixth year."

Harry's jaw dropped. "I asked you to the Yule Ball?"

Draco nodded, giving Harry a charming smile. 

Leaning back in the couch, Harry stared at nothing in particular. He'd asked a boy to the Yule Ball. He'd asked _Draco Malfoy_ to be his date.

"What...did you...did we...?"

"Shag?" Draco grinned. "No, not on our first date. But we did get caught snogging outside by McGonagall."

Harry stared at Draco in horror. "I meant dance," he said, his voice constricted. "We got caught snogging?"

Draco nodded, his eyes going distant as if he remembered something particularly nice. "First we danced, and I hope you do remember that you're a lousy dancer."

Harry couldn't argue with that. 

"And then we took a stroll and you kissed me. And I decided that you were cute enough, so I went along with it. And then McGonagall caught us, took us to Dumbledore's office and they contacted our parents."

"Huh? Why would they do that?" Harry realized he was feeling rather interested in the story, even though the subject still made him a bit queasy. 

"They were worried one of us had hexed the other, or something along those lines. I think they had a hard time believing a Malfoy and a Potter would ever want to date each other."

"What did my...our parents say?"

Draco chuckled. "They put on quite the show in Dumbledore's office. Yelling and ranting that we couldn't possibly be serious about this and that we were too good for the other. And then you jumped up, shouted 'I'll bloody well kiss whomever I please,' and snogged me right there and then. That shut them up."

Lowering his head, Harry stifled a snort of laughter. "I really did that?"

"Oh yes," Draco said, and the look he gave Harry was one of admiration. "I couldn't possibly resist that kind of charm, now could I?"

Harry shrugged. "This is very odd," he said, glancing up at Draco. "I don't remember ever having a civil conversation with you. Much less snogging you in front of our parents. Or ever thinking about you in _that_ way."

"Well, that's what happened," Draco said. Harry looked at him again, and thought that Draco hadn't changed all that much from how Harry remembered him. Yes, he'd grown older, but he still looked quite a bit like the Draco Harry knew. His hair was a bit shorter in the back and longer in the front, a few silvery blond strands hanging in over his eyes, which looked exactly like Harry remembered them. Gray and piercing. 

"Like what you see, do you?" Draco darted his tongue out and licked his bottom lip. 

Feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, Harry quickly averted his gaze. "I'm not sure," he mumbled, and realized that he really wasn't. "I can't imagine doing...things with you. We do things, don't we?"

"You mean sex? Oh yes, Harry, we have sex. Lots and lots of it."

Harry fumbled with the corner of one of the pillows on the couch. "I'm not even sure how men...do things."

"It's easy," Draco whispered, and shifted closer to Harry. "I can refresh your memory if you like. You always say I have the most talented mouth in the northern hemisphere."

Crossing his legs, Harry stared at Draco and felt like a mouse trapped by a cat. "Perhaps that's taking it a bit too fast," he said, his voice giving an odd squeak.

Draco inched his hand up Harry's thigh, its touch making Harry's skin shiver. "What's not taking it too fast, then?"

"I dunno," Harry said. "Sitting here and talking?"

"Too boring."

"Holding hands?"

Draco snorted. "Too feminine. Let me suck your cock, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, and he was shocked to realize that part of him felt curious about what it was like to have your cock sucked. And, well, Malfoy was offering. But damnit, this was Malfoy, a bloke. 

"Perhaps we can kiss?" Harry suggested, more to clear his mind of any thoughts that involved a cock than because he wanted to make a suggestion. 

"Kissing would be a good way to start," Draco whispered, his face now very close to Harry's. "You are a rather nice kisser."

"I am?" Harry wondered, and then his breath was cut off by Draco's mouth. Harry kept his eyes wide open as Draco brushed his lips across Harry's and teased them with the tip of his tongue. 

"Open your mouth," Draco whispered, one hand resting on Harry's hip while the other stroked across Harry's chest. 

Harry sat frozen, unsure what to do. It felt rather nice, Draco's lips touching his own. Draco had very soft lips, Harry thought as he parted his own, curious to see what else Draco would do. 

"That's it." Draco licked across Harry's lips again and then sneaked his tongue inside Harry's mouth. Harry started at the feel of something wet and warm stroking against his own tongue. His first reaction was to draw his tongue back, but when Draco insisted with teasing flicks, Harry slowly touched his tongue to Draco's. 

It felt odd. But Harry was forced to conclude that it did feel better than Cho's kiss the previous year, which had been wet with sobs and tears.

And somewhere between moving his lips over Draco's and teasing Draco's tongue with his own, Harry forgot he was kissing a man and let his eyes flutter shut.

Draco pulled back, breathing hot breaths against Harry's lips. "So you do like it," he said, and pressed his hand to Harry's cock, which had apparently enjoyed it quite a bit, because it was getting hard. 

Harry grabbed Draco's wrist, because the idea that someone he'd hated with a vengeance until five minutes ago was touching his cock was too much. "It wasn't bad," he said, worrying his lip. "But that's moving too fast, really."

Sighing, Draco let go of Harry and leaned back. 

"Perhaps you should go," Harry said. 

"Perhaps I should," Draco replied, and got up from the couch, stretching himself lazily. "But before I do, there's something I want to show you."

"What?" Harry got up as well, looking at Draco with a frown. 

"It's in your bedroom."

Harry wanted to protest, because putting bedroom and Draco Malfoy together in his mind was still far too scary for his brain to consider, but Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

Inside his bedroom, which held a huge bed that looked exceptionally comfortable, Draco bent down and pulled a large box out from under the bed. He put it down on the sheets and smirked at Harry. 

"What's that?" Harry asked. 

"Your porn collection, love," Draco said, pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek, and stepped away from him to the doorway. "You might want to give it a look tonight."

"Um..." Harry said, because most of his sixteen-year-old brain had just short-circuited at the mention of porn. "Yeah, maybe I will."

Draco snorted and gave Harry a knowing smile. "You are coming to my match tomorrow, aren't you?"

Harry, still preoccupied by the idea of looking at porn for the rest of the evening, snapped his gaze up at Draco. "Sure," he said, although he had no idea what Draco was talking about. 

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Harry." And with that, Draco turned and left Harry alone with his porn collection.

*~*~*~*~*

It was astonishing that a box full of pictures of naked people – naked men, to be more specific – could make one forget about the rest of the world, Harry thought. A world which had been turned upside down only a few hours ago.

But there he was, seated in the middle of a bed – or rather, his bed – surrounded by dozens and dozens of moving pictures, all featuring men in various states of undress, doing things he'd never even dreamed of. 

Harry was painfully hard, and had been for the past half hour. And he hadn't even reached the bottom of the box yet.

That was perhaps the most astonishing part of it all. That pictures of naked men touching, kissing, licking, sucking and fucking could have such an effect on him. 

It could be just his age, Harry thought as he stared at the image of a muscled bloke slamming his cock inside a lanky boy's arse. At sixteen, anything turned him on; there was one rather embarrassing memory Harry'd give his right arm to forget, of Professor Flitwick demonstrating a particularly difficult wand movement, which involved stroking the hard wood, that had given Harry his first erection during a class.

Or it could be that the sight of men kissing and fucking each other genuinely aroused him. It was hard to tell, since Harry had no experience with sex whatsoever, besides wanking like there was no tomorrow -- which with Voldemort after him might just be the case, Harry always reasoned, and thus he happily kept wanking any moment he could.

And at that moment, wanking seemed like a good alternative to sitting there and waiting for his cock to explode on its own. Or for him to pass out, because he was quite sure there wasn't much blood left in his brain. 

But wanking to pictures of men fucking men, wouldn't that make him queer? Even just a little bit?

Perhaps he'd best look at the rest of the pictures, to make sure it really was arousing him. 

With a sigh, Harry reached inside the box and pulled out the last stack of photographs, spreading them out on the sheets. 

They looked rather familiar, in an odd sort of way, Harry thought. He blinked and picked up one of the photos for a closer look. 

Was that...?

No, it couldn't be. 

It couldn't be Draco Malfoy leaning over someone who looked an awful lot like him. Harry cocked his head and picked up the next photo. 

It couldn't possibly be himself lying there on a bed, legs spread wide and knees drawn up to his chest, exposing a part of his body Harry'd never even seen before. 

And it couldn't possibly be Draco Malfoy leaning closer and dragging his tongue over Harry's pucker. 

"Holy fucking god!" Harry released the photo as if it had burned him and backed up, slamming against the headboard, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

"Holy fucking god!" he said again. He swallowed and worried his lip. 

Those were pictures of himself and Draco Malfoy. Doing very private things. Like sticking one's tongue inside the other's arse. 

Who on earth would ever want to stick a tongue there, Harry thought as he looked away. And a moment later, he looked back again, because it all had to be a joke.

"Fred? George? You can come out now. You got me," Harry said, his voice quivering as he glanced around the room. 

No reply came. 

"Ron? Did you set this up? Ha, ha. Very funny."

Again, the room remained silent. 

"Holy fucking god," Harry said once more, because they were the only words that kept popping up in his mind. 

There were pictures of Draco Malfoy and himself having sex. In many, many positions. So Draco hadn't been lying, Harry realized. They did have sex. Lots and lots of it, if the number of pictures were any indication. 

Harry reached for a new one, and watched how Draco's lips wrapped around his hard cock, swallowing him almost to the base.

Harry's cock gave an urgent twitch at the sight of that, and Harry squeezed himself through his robes so he wouldn't come right there and then.

"I can't believe this," Harry whispered, because he really couldn't believe he'd ever take pictures of Draco and himself having sex. Though, he had to admit, the idea was rather arousing. To take pictures of himself having sex. Not necessarily with Draco Malfoy, of course. Or with any man, for that matter. 

Rummaging through the stash of very private photos, Harry finally discovered one that made him gasp. And not in a bad way, either. 

Draco on his hands and knees on Harry's bed – the very bed Harry was sitting on at that moment – with Harry kneeling behind him. Harry rubbed his fingers between Draco's arse cheeks, and then positioned his hard prick before pushing it inside Draco's body. 

"Oh dear lord, I'm fucking Draco Malfoy," Harry said, and released a strangled snort of laughter. It wasn't really funny, but Harry felt like laughing anyway. The hysterical kind of laughter, not the amused kind. 

"He likes it, that little bastard," Harry said, amazed. "And I like it, too," he added, even more amazed. 

Harry swallowed and stared at the picture of himself setting a fast pace, his cock thrusting into Draco, who had his eyes closed while his fingers tangled in the sheets beneath them.

Part of him couldn't believe what he was about to do, but a bigger part of him – probably his cock, Harry thought – didn't care one bit what exactly was on those photos besides naked people having sex. So Harry reached for his robes, undid a few strategic buttons and freed his throbbing cock. 

"Oh god yes," he sighed at the first stroke. It wouldn't take long and he supposed he'd better make the best of it, so he stared at an older version of himself fucking Draco Malfoy of all people through the mattress while he fisted his cock with urgent strokes.

He came with a soft gasp, his body trembling and his cock spurting his release over a handful of the pictures in front of him while the image of Draco being fucked good and proper burned itself in his mind. 

Inhaling shaky breaths, Harry stilled his hand and gave his cock a satisfied squeeze while he wondered if this made him gay or not. He still didn't feel gay, although he had to admit that he had no idea what being gay should feel like. But perhaps he just had to give this whole men having sex with other men thing a lot more thought. With the aid of the porn collection. It was _his_ porn collection, after all. 

Harry spelled himself and the photos clean, and took his time collecting all the pictures and replacing them in the box. Now that his sac was spent and most of his blood rushed back to his brain, Harry realized he was still stuck inside a world that wasn't his own. 

Everyone kept saying that he'd taken a Bludger to the head, and while that wasn't an entirely inconceivable option, it didn't explain why Harry remembered having lived in a completely different world before waking up in his living room that afternoon. 

He needed to talk to someone about it. He needed to find answers. And as he leaned down and shoved the box under his bed, Harry remembered Lupin's... no, Remus' offer to come over for help with his inner horse. He'd always trusted Sirius and Remus. Who better to help him unravel the truth about his memories than his godfather and his gay lover?

Harry leaned back against the headboard and idly wondered if everyone in this world had suddenly turned gay.

*~*~*~*~*

"Concentrate now, Harry," Sirius said, his gloved hand gesturing for Harry to find the animal inside him, as he'd explained a few times already.

"Don't force it, just let it out nice and easy," Remus added from beneath the woolen scarf he had wrapped tightly around his neck. 

Harry released a deep breath, which wafted away as a small, condensed cloud, and stood perfectly still on the frosted lawn of Sirius' house in Southampton. Sirius had explained the basics of being an Animagus to him, and now it was up to Harry to find his inner animal again and make a conscious transformation. 

A tingle of magic ran up his spine, and Harry tried to hang onto it, tried to think of horses, tried to imagine being a horse. That huge brown horse he'd seen in the mirror. He tried not to think of the horse's gigantic cock and the touch of Draco Malfoy's fingers on it. Just the horse. Being a horse. Having hooves and a long, swishy tail. 

"Yes, Harry, you're doing it!" Sirius yelled. Harry ignored him, focusing on that horse, that big brown horse, and finally he felt his body morph. His neck arched, his spine straightened and his arms and legs lengthened. 

He was a horse. He was a real horse and it hadn't been an accident this time. 

Harry reared up on his hind legs, kicking his front hooves in a burst of victory as he let out a loud whinny. 

"Brilliant!" Sirius cheered as Remus clapped his mitten-covered hands.

Harry stretched his legs and moved across the wide lawn in a steady trot, realizing he felt as free as he'd done the first time he'd sat on a broom. Then he picked up speed and galloped, his hooves clapping on the frosted ground while he ran around Sirius' house, throwing his head up and whinnying, forgetting about unfamiliar worlds and men fucking other men. 

"All right. You still have to transform back," Sirius said, waving him over as Harry reached the pair again. "It works the same, just reversed. Concentrate on yourself."

Doing as Sirius told him, Harry felt his body shift back and a moment later he stood on two legs again and gave Sirius and Remus a wide grin. 

Sirius returned it, but Remus gave him a frown. "You are going to clean up that up, aren't you?" he said with a little nod of his head to a spot behind Harry. Confused, Harry turned and saw a few steaming balls of horse-manure scattered across the grass. Harry quickly looked away, a heated flush rising to his cheek. 

"Don't worry about it," Sirius said, reaching for his wand. "This isn't the first time you've crapped on our lawn." He swished his wand and cleaned up the mess Harry'd left behind. 

Following Remus back into the house, Harry decided not to ask about the other times Sirius had hinted at. 

"I think a cuppa will warm us right up," Remus said, and disappeared into the kitchen. Harry sat down on the couch and was soon joined by Sirius, who rubbed his hands and let out a deep sigh.

As Harry tried to decide how to broach the subject of his strange memories without looking like he'd gone mad, Remus returned, carrying a tray with three steaming mugs on it. Harry accepted one of them and wrapped his cold fingers around the hot porcelain, barely noticing that Remus sat down on his other side. 

"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, glancing up at Sirius, who gave him a nod in reply. "I have these strange memories and I'm not sure – "

"Don't worry about those memories," Sirius said with a smile. "Whatever happened between us was entirely consensual. We have always kept it from your parents. Why make trouble when you can avoid it, eh?"

"Huh?" Harry stared at Sirius in confusion. "How did you know what I was going to ask?"

"The last time you took a Bludger to the head, you came here with the same worries," Remus explained. 

"Yep. You said you had odd memories of us four shagging," Sirius added.

"Us four shagging?" Harry gulped. "Us as in you and me and Remus and...Draco?"

"Right again. When was that, Moony? About five years ago?"

"Yeah, about five years, I'd say."

"You wanted to swing, but since you're a celebrity and all, you can't just go to any place, so you and Draco came here." Sirius gave Harry a wink and leaned back in the couch, cradling his mug of tea. 

"I wanted to dance?" Harry asked, feeling utterly lost. 

Sirius released a bark of laughter. "Swing, Harry. Not dance."

"As in swinging couples," Remus added. 

Frowning, Harry glanced down at his shoes. "Oh. Ooooh." He snapped his gaze up and stared at Sirius and Remus in horror. "We...um...the four of us...did things?"

"That's one way of putting it," Sirius said, snickering. "Or you can call it the best times of your life."

"Times?" Harry shifted on the couch, feeling more and more uncomfortable. 

"Yes, we met every weekend for about a year and a half," Remus said, giving Harry a warm smile. 

That explained why Remus had kissed him, Harry thought absently, and then remembered all the pictures in his porn collection. He had done those kind of things with his godfather and his former professor? A tingle of magic shot up Harry's spine, but he focused for a moment and managed to push it back. 

"Perhaps I should go," Harry said. He wanted to get out of there, because knowing he had sex with Draco Malfoy was one thing, but learning that he apparently enjoyed shagging two other men, two people Harry'd always seen as parental figures of sorts, was something his mind refused to accept. "The match," he said as he got up from the couch. "I have to go to Draco's match."

"That's right," Sirius said, also getting to his feet. "We'll come with you. Prongs and your mother are meeting us there."

Harry stared at the floor, because he couldn't quite look at Sirius and Remus anymore, the questions about his odd memories completely forgotten.

*~*~*~*~*

"But don't we need tickets?" Harry asked the moment they stepped out one of the stadium's public Floo stations. "I don't have any tickets."

"Of course you don't need tickets," Sirius said, clapping Harry on the back. "You're Trotter Potter. They're bloody lucky you decided to grace them with your presence."

And sure enough, a wizard dressed in Falmouth Falcons robes hurried towards them. He gave Harry a little bow, and gestured to follow him. "It's a pleasure to have you, Mr Potter. We've reserved the finest seats for you and your family, as usual. This way now, this way."

Baffled, Harry followed the wizard, ignoring the odd looks and gasps around him as they made their way through the crowded corridor. They walked up a wide flight of stairs and stepped into the chilly December air. 

"Harry!" His mother waved at him from a row of seats to their right. Harry swallowed and waved back. It was still hard to accept that his parents were alive, and Harry forced a smile as he walked towards them. 

"How are you feeling today?" his mother asked, gesturing for his father to move over a seat so Harry could sit between them. 

"Better," Harry said, scuffing his shoe against the seat before sitting down. "Still a bit confused."

Lily smiled and Harry had to look away, because something broke inside of him. 

"It will all come back, son," his father said. "It did last time, so don't you worry."

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry whispered and stared at the empty Quidditch pitch. 

"I do hope you plan on changing your attire before attending our Christmas dinner this evening, Harry," a rather cold voice suddenly said. 

Harry whipped around in his seat and saw Lucius Malfoy standing behind them. 

"Hello, Lucius," James said pleasantly, offering his hand. 

"James." Lucius Malfoy gave him a curt nod and shook his hand. 

"Narcissa, looking as lovely as ever," Lily said, smiling at Narcissa Malfoy, who replied with a small, restrained curve of her lips. 

"As do you, Lily." Narcissa wrinkled her nose before seating herself on the edge of the wooden chair, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere but at a Quidditch match. 

Harry was still stuck on Lucius' words, and frowned at the older man. There was a Christmas dinner? He was supposed to have dinner with a Death Eater? Harry shook himself. Lucius Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater, because there was no Voldemort. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy was nothing more than his father-in-law in this world. 

Looking down at Harry over his nose, Lucius sneered. "Well?"

"Harry took a Bludger to the head," James said, patting Harry on the shoulder while he looked at Lucius. "It may take him a moment to remember things."

"A Bludger to the head? Again?" Lucius Malfoy looked as if he actually wanted to smile. Harry gritted his teeth and swallowed back a few selective words to describe just how he felt about Lucius. 

"Yeah, I'll change," Harry said vaguely, and thought he really needed to talk to Draco, because he did not feel up to dining with Lucius Malfoy. Death Eater or not, his proximity still sent shivers up Harry's spine. 

A loud voice echoed through the stadium, announcing the team players, and accompanied by loud cheers from the crowd the Falmouth Falcons zoomed onto the pitch, Draco up front. A moment later the Kenmare Kestrels followed, and both teams flew a lap around the pitch. 

As Draco passed Harry and winked at him, a flutter of something erupted in Harry's stomach. Harry quickly told himself he was just excited to see a professional Quidditch match again. He'd only ever seen one, after all. This had absolutely nothing to do with certain pictures in a certain box beneath his bed. 

"You all right, Harry?" his father asked. "You look a bit flushed." 

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled, and crossed one leg over the other, just to be safe. 

Both teams got in position, and the game was underway. Harry noted that the Falmouth Falcons really did play as hard as they were reputed to, but it was a good game nonetheless. Still, Harry couldn't help glancing up as his mother and father every so often, as if he found it hard to believe they were actually there. 

His father discussed tactics with Sirius, occasionally interrupted by Lucius, which at one point resulted in Sirius jumping up from his seat, yelling, "It's bad enough you married into my family, Malfoy, but that doesn't give you the right to stick your fancy nose in our discussion!"

Lucius answered Sirius' outburst with a disdainful sneer, and everyone returned their attention to the game. 

His mother met Harry's glances from time to time, giving him smiles that made Harry feel choked up as he stared into her familiar green eyes. 

An hour into the game, Pettigrew joined them with a strawberry-blonde woman at his side, who gave Harry a shy smile. Pettigrew excused himself for being late, endured a few suggestive comments from Sirius, and again everyone continued watching the game. 

It all seemed so normal, Harry thought. As if they did this every weekend. 

"Malfoy has spotted the Snitch!" the commentator shrieked. Several people around Harry got to their feet. "And it seems that Malfoy will once again prove why he deserves to be called 'Draco the Destroyer.'"

Harry blinked. Draco the Destroyer? Grinning, he looked around his father at Sirius, who gave him an affronted look. 

"That wasn't me, mate. That was you," Sirius said, crossing his arms. 

"Huh?" Harry gaped at Sirius for a moment. "Me? I came up with that?"

"You most certainly did," James said, chuckling. 

"And yes, you were pissed out of your skull when you did, Harry, but Draco rather liked that name and kept it," Sirius added. 

Harry looked away from them both, his cheeks heating, and he saw how Draco pulled his broom up just above the ground and closed his fingers around the Snitch. 

The stadium erupted in loud cheers, and Draco flew up, the Snitch held high. It was an overwhelming victory for the Falmouth Falcons, and even Harry couldn't help applauding their success. 

Draco flew around the pitch once, and then hovered before the box Harry was seated in. His eyes narrowed and a mischievous smile playing around his lips, Draco pressed a kiss to the Snitch and threw it in Harry's direction. Letting his Quidditch instincts take over for a second, Harry raised his hand and caught it. And only after he felt the Snitch's small wings flutter against his palm did he realize the implications of what he'd just done. 

The crowd around them seemed to understand it as well, and applauded them both. Just as Harry lowered his gaze, hoping he wouldn't spontaneously transform into a horse again, Draco steered his broom closer and cleared his throat. 

"Meet me in the changing rooms, Harry," he said, softly enough so only Harry heard it. 

"Um..." Harry said. He didn't dare say more, nor look into Draco's eyes, afraid he'd blurt out something about those stupid pictures or why anyone would ever want to lick someone else's arse. 

"See you in a bit." Draco turned his broom around and flew back to his teammates, leaving Harry staring at a Snitch and seeing it from a whole new angle for the first time in his life.

*~*~*~*~*

After taking the wrong turn at least three times, Harry found the Falmouth Falcons' changing rooms. He knocked on the door, and heard Draco reply with a polite, "Come in."

"Hullo," Harry said, closing the door behind him and leaning his back against it. He was glad to see all the other players had left already, and Draco was showered and dressed. 

"Hello," Draco replied, finished lacing up his shoes, and got up from the bench. "Did you enjoy the pictures last night?"

"I...er...may have looked at some," Harry said, his voice giving a crack. 

Draco advanced on him and stopped when there was only half an inch of air left between their bodies, which made Harry reach for the doorknob, just in case he needed to make an unscheduled retreat. 

"Did you enjoy our pictures?" Draco asked with a curious tilt of his head. 

"No," Harry replied too quickly. "That is...I never made it to the bottom of the box."

Draco licked the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip and chuckled. "And how would you know they're at the bottom of the box, Harry?"

Tightening his fingers around the doorknob, Harry stared down at his shoes. "I saw them," he whispered as if admitting to a terrible crime. 

"You wanked, didn't you?" Draco pressed a little closer, his body heat forming a suffocating curtain around Harry. "You looked at our photos and touched yourself."

Harry opened his mouth to deny those accusations, but momentarily lost his ability to speak as he met Draco's gaze and remembered seeing himself slide his cock inside Draco's pale arse. "I...er...I didn't...how could you ever think such a thing, Malfoy?"

"I know you," Draco said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, which made Harry swallow. "I know everything about you, Harry. I know you better than you know yourself."

A familiar flare of anger ignited inside Harry's chest, the kind he usually felt whenever he was around Draco Malfoy. He clenched his jaws and tried to think of a reply, but his mind stayed empty as he became aware of Draco's clean, masculine scent so very, very close to him. 

"That's why you wanted to take those photos in the first place," Draco continued, leaning his head closer to Harry's. "So you could see us fuck anytime you wanted to. So you could touch that gorgeous cock of yours while looking at me licking and sucking it."

Draco's lips brushed across Harry's cheeks and Harry released a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering shut. He had to change the subject, he realized, because this was leading to something Harry didn't think he was quite ready for yet. Or would ever be ready for. 

"I learned something rather disturbing today," he said, his voice almost a whimper. Draco pulled back and looked at him with a frown. "The whole swing thing with Sirius and Remus. Very disturbing," Harry explained. 

"Oh." Draco pulled back even further and gave an odd shrug. "That was your idea. I've always just wanted to keep you to myself."

Harry stared at Draco and felt both confused and genuinely curious. "Why did you do it, then?"

Draco screwed his face up and said, in falsetto, "Oh, Draco, we're still both so young, we should have sex with other men. Oh, Draco, I don't think I'm ready to commit myself to one person yet. Oh, Draco, I want to know what it feels like to be taken by several cocks." Draco's expression changed to one of slight annoyance. "And so on and so forth." He waved his hand in an impatient gesture, as if to rid himself of the subject. 

His mouth dropping open, Harry had a hard time believing what he heard. "But that still doesn't explain why you did it."

"It was either go along on your little adventures with those two blokes, or lose you altogether. I chose the first." Draco gave another shrug. "It wasn't bad or anything. Just not something I'd have come up with myself."

Harry was dumbfounded and could do nothing but stare at Draco, wondering why anyone would ever put up with something like that just to stay with him. 

"Can we go back to the previous subject now?" Draco asked, leaning his face close to Harry's again. "I think this is where we left off."

"Um...wait," Harry said, placing a hand on Draco's chest. "There's something else. Christmas dinner at your parents'. I can't go there."

"Why not?" Draco leaned back again, irritation written across his face. 

"I don't remember them," Harry said, managing an apologetic smile. "I don't feel quite comfortable around them. Yet."

Draco gave a snort, and then his lips crept up in a sly smile. "That's too bad, Harry. Because I had plans for us after dinner."

"Plans?" Harry croaked. 

"Oh yes. Find a nice secluded corner in our Mansion or return to your flat and give you the best fuck of your life."

Harry swallowed, his fingers curling around Draco's robes. 

"But since you won't be joining me for dinner, I suppose I'll just have to give it to you here." Draco licked his lips and pressed them to Harry's. 

A fierce, internal struggle took place inside Harry. His brain was begging him to push Draco away, to stop this abomination before it could go any further. And his cock was yelling at Harry to ignore his brain and let Draco do with them whatever he wanted, its voice intensified by the blood rushing to it. Harry was trapped between two voices telling him what to do, and stood motionless as Draco leaned against him and slid his tongue between Harry's lips. 

"Hmph," Harry managed, and then released a soft shriek when Draco cupped his groin.

"Sshh," Draco said against Harry's lips and pulled a few of the lower buttons open. "You'll love this, Harry. You always do."

"I'm not sure..." Harry whispered, and his breath caught in his throat when he felt Draco's slim fingers slide inside his boxers, touching the heated skin of his cock. 

"I miss you, Harry. Just let me touch you." Draco pressed a few small kisses on Harry's cheeks and chin before devouring Harry's mouth again. 

Harry wasn't sure what shocked him into submission – Draco's admission that he missed Harry, or the feeling of Draco's fingers squeezing around his hard cock. But at once Harry's brain was quiet, and Harry thrust his hips against Draco's hand, wanting to feel more, because he couldn't quite believe that someone was touching his prick, that he was finally having some form of sex, even though it wasn't quite what he'd always fantasized about. 

Trying to meet the strokes of Draco's tongue with his own, Harry moaned and closed his eyes, marveled by the feeling of a skilled hand fisting his cock. He released the doorknob and put his trembling hand on Draco's shoulder, let it rest there for a moment, and then cupped the back of Draco's neck, curling his fingers in Draco's hair. Holding Draco's head in place, Harry started rocking his hips, urging Draco to squeeze harder and stroke faster while thinking that Draco's hair, still damp from a recent shower, felt even softer than it looked. 

"That's it, Harry," Draco whispered against Harry's moist lips as Harry inhaled a surge of air. "Come. I want to feel you come all over my hand."

The idea of someone telling him to come was enough to force Harry's orgasm from him, and he came with a muffled groan against Draco's mouth, Draco's fingers squeezing his cock from base to tip. Harry's knees buckled and he was left with no other option than to sag in Draco's arms. 

"Fuck," Harry sighed, his mind reeling from his climax. 

"Not quite, but it's a start," Draco said, grinning. He placed a soft kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth and withdrew his hand from Harry's robes. Raising a come-covered finger to his mouth, Draco darted his tongue out and licked Harry's release up with small flicks. 

Harry stared at him, unable to comprehend what exactly Draco was doing, but thinking it looked damned sexy anyway. 

"I told you you'd like it." Draco's grin was smug, and it looked familiar and yet not, because Harry had never before seen that grin right after a mind-blowing orgasm. 

"Yeah," Harry agreed, not sure what he was agreeing to. Draco chuckled, and closed the buttons on Harry's robes. Harry let him, relaxed and confused, and thinking perhaps now he understood why he'd been having sex with Draco Malfoy for over a decade.

Having someone touch your cock felt bloody good, Harry decided, and he gave Draco a droopy smile. 

"Come on, I'll walk you to the Floo station." Draco gave Harry one last kiss and opened the door. He slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, and Harry followed him through the corridors, dazed and oddly happy. 

"I'll stop by tomorrow evening," Draco said, releasing Harry when they reached one of the public fireplaces. 

"Okay," Harry said, because he saw no reason to object. Apparently, his brain hadn't found its voice again, and his cock wasn't about to argue with anything that could mean more of what had just happened. "See you tomorrow."

Draco smiled, and Harry managed to return it before the green flames transported him back to his flat.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry stared into the fireplace, inhaled a deep breath and reached for the Floo powder.

When he'd woken up that morning, the odd happiness from the previous night had been gone, and he realized he still needed to find answers to his questions about this strange world. 

He'd spent the morning going through his flat, hoping to find something that would provide a few hints, but when he found nothing, he decided it was time to ask his best friends for help. 

The address book he'd found earlier told him that Ron and Hermione lived in Ottery St. Catchpole, and Harry inhaled another deep breath before shouting out his destination. 

"Ron and Hermione's house, Ottery St. Catchpole!"

The flames turned green and Harry stepped into them, his world turning upside down as he tumbled past fireplaces until one of them finally spit him out. 

Harry landed on his arse, coughed a time or two, and stared up in the face of an elderly wizard seated in front of the fireplace. 

"Sweet sugar quills, look who it is!" the wizard said, his smile revealing an almost toothless mouth. "Ethel, look, it's Trotter Potter!"

Ethel, an elderly witch seated to Harry's right, reached for thick glasses, slid them on, and clapped her hands. "Yes, it is. It's Trotter Potter."

"Um...hullo," Harry said, scrambling to his feet. 

"Ethel, get the boy a drink. Quickly now," the elderly wizard said, gesturing impatiently at his wife. Ethel got up with a deep groan, her back hunched and several bones snapping into place. 

"Thank you, but no," Harry said, giving the couple a small smile. "I'm looking for Ron Weasley. I think I got the wrong fireplace."

"Ron Weasley," the wizard repeated, his already wrinkled face creasing up in concentration. "The Weasley's youngest boy, isn't he? Ah, yes, he lives a few streets down from here. He's always home, the poor bastard. Think his wife works and makes him look after all those youngsters she keeps popping out." The wizard shook his head to show his disapproval. 

"Really?" Harry said, trying to be polite. 

"Here you go," Ethel said, and pushed a glass filled with a dubious yellow liquid in Harry's hands. "Pumpkin juice. Homemade, of course."

"Thank you," Harry said, and took a tiny sip. It had to be the foulest thing he'd ever tasted, but he swallowed bravely and offered Ethel a watery smile. "Delicious."

Ethel beamed, her eyes huge behind her thick, smudged glasses. 

"But I'd best be off now." Harry placed the glass on the mantel, giving the couple a curt bow. 

"Show him to the door, Ethel! Show Trotter Potter we've got manners. Nice to meet you, Trotter! We never miss a match of yours on the wireless."

"Good day," Harry said, and followed Ethel to the crooked front door. He had to bend his head to pass through it, and he gave Ethel a smile as she waved him goodbye. 

He found himself in the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, and while keeping a careful eye on the street signs so as not to get lost, he found Ron and Hermione's house after a ten-minute walk. 

Harry knocked on the door of the one-story house, and after a moment it opened and a small, red-haired boy looked up at him. 

"Uncle Harry!"

"Hullo," Harry said, giving the boy a good look. It was the boy from the photo on his mantel, he realized. 

"Dad, it's Uncle Harry!" The boy turned and ran inside, leaving Harry standing in the doorway, not sure if he should just walk in or not. 

"Hey, Harry." Ron appeared from what Harry assumed was the living room, a toddler in his arms. "Come in. I was just helping Emmy here to a sandwich."

"Ah." Harry stepped inside and closed the door. "Is that your youngest child?"

Ron curved an eyebrow. "Your memory's still messed up, eh? Yeah, Emmy is about eighteen months now."

Harry followed Ron inside the living room, meanwhile trying to comprehend that Ron had children. With Hermione. 

"And this is Henry. Your godson, just so you know." Ron patted the oldest boy on his head. "And that's Alex. He takes after the twins. That should tell you something." He smiled at the second boy, who looked to be around four and had a grin that reminded Harry a lot of Fred and George. 

"Yeah, it does," Harry said, smiling. He sat down at the dining table opposite Ron and watched for a moment how Ron offered his daughter a small piece of bread, which she loudly refused. "Is Hermione home as well? I have something I'd like to talk about."

"Nah, she's at work." Ron tried a second time, making odd noises Harry didn't understand, and Emmy giggled and ate the piece of bread.

"Oh." Harry thumped his fingers against the table. "Because I have these odd memories that don't make any sense, and I'd hoped you two could help me with them."

Ron slowly looked up, and Harry was shocked by the disgust he saw in Ron's eyes. 

"Been remembering your gay side again, Harry?"

"Um..." Harry said, recalling the feeling of Draco's fingers around his cock. "I'm not really...all that gay. But that's not – "

"Been getting all chummy with Draco again?"

"No." Harry blinked and wondered what the hell was wrong with Ron. "But that's really not – "

"Or have you finally remembered the first bloke you've ever shagged?"

"Huh?"

Ron got up from the table. "Boys, go upstairs."

"But Dad..." Henry started while Alex gave an enormous pout.

"Go play upstairs. Now." Ron waited until both boys had disappeared into the hallway, and then put Emmy inside a playpen, where she grabbed a stuffed monkey that imitated every move she made. 

"Ron, I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said as Ron sat down opposite him again. 

"You know, it's funny how you come here, acting as if nothing happened." Ron crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "You spend your whole life ignoring me, but when you lose a few memories, you suddenly want to be friendly again."

Harry was at a loss for words and gaped at Ron. "I've never ignored you," he managed softly. 

Ron snorted. "Oh no, you didn't ignore me when you needed an arse to discover your queer side with. But the moment Draco bloody Malfoy offered his bum you suddenly forgot all about me. How convenient."

"I...I never...your arse?" Harry felt his heart pounding in his ears. 

"Yes, my arse, Harry. When we were fourteen, almost fifteen, you suddenly decided you wanted to fuck me. And I bloody well let you." Ron pushed his chair back and got up, his jaws clenched. "I thought...never mind what I thought. You used me and dumped me. The only reason I tolerate you is because of Hermione, who still thinks of you as a friend. She doesn't know any of this, and it had better stay that way."

Harry looked down, unable to comprehend all the things Ron was saying. 

"That's all I have to say to you. Leave." Ron turned his back to Harry, and Harry's stomach churned. 

"I...I'm sorry," he whispered, slowly getting up. He wanted to say more, but he had no idea how to respond to all of that. The idea of him having done things with Ron was enough to shock him speechless. The idea of having done things and then dumping Ron was too horrible to even consider. "I'll just use your Floo."

Ron didn't say a word, and stared at Harry with narrowed eyes as Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder and muttered his destination. 

When he stepped out his own fireplace, Harry was still completely dumbfounded, and he sat down on the couch and stared at nothing for a while.

*~*~*~*~*

Sleep refused to come. Harry'd gone to bed early, very early, but his mind refused to calm down. He stared up at the dark ceiling, wondering how he could ever hurt his best friend like that.

Part of him didn't want to believe it, but another part knew Ron would never lie to him.

A loud crack sounded from the living room, followed by a few soft curses. Then a light popped up in the hallway and suddenly Harry's bedroom door swung open. 

"What are you doing in the dark?" Draco asked, leaning against the doorpost. 

Harry sat up in his bed, clutching the sheets to his chest. He was only wearing shorts, and despite the intimate moment he'd shared with Draco the previous day, he had no desire for Draco to see him half-naked. "What are you doing here?"

Draco pushed himself away from the doorway and sauntered towards the bed. "Has your short-term memory given up as well?"

"Oh." Harry suddenly remembered Draco was going to stop by. "No, I'm just not feeling well. Thought I'd try to get some sleep."

"You poor soul," Draco cooed, seating himself on the edge of Harry's bed. Harry tried to pull away from him, but Draco grabbed his shoulder and pinned him to the mattress. "Perhaps I should try to make you feel better."

"Er..." Harry swallowed. There were voices again, his brain telling him to refuse and his cock cheering at him to go on and have Draco get him off. Harry decided to go for a third option, and he blurted out something that had been on his mind all day: "I don't think I'm a very nice person."

Draco released him and cocked his head. "What makes you say that? I like you just fine, Harry."

Harry let out a strangled noise. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I'm really not a very nice person. The way I've treated you. And Ron."

"Ah." Draco relaxed and started undoing his shoes. "You've been talking to Weasley? He's just jealous, love. He never did get over the fact that you chose me over him." Draco kicked off his shoes and reached for the buttons of his robes. "Who can blame you? I'd pick me over him."

Snorting, Harry shook his head. "Yeah, you would. But I don't think I would, and yet I did."

"Of course you did." Draco pulled off his robes, and Harry gasped when he realized Draco was wearing nothing underneath. "Now let me remind you why."

Before Harry could object, Draco pulled the sheets down and rolled onto bed beside Harry. 

"I think you already remember why," Draco teased, trailing a finger down Harry's chest towards Harry's tented boxers. Harry stared at his erection and he couldn't keep a soft moan from escaping his throat. 

"You have such a gorgeous body, Harry." Draco leaned closer and flicked the tip of his tongue at Harry's nipple. Harry inhaled a sharp breath at the odd, tingly feeling that followed. He'd never known touching his nipples like that would feel good. Draco grinned and sucked around Harry's nipple, his hand stroking across Harry's chest.

"This is one of my favorite parts of your body," Draco whispered, kissing his way down Harry's chest. He hovered above Harry's navel, dipped his tongue inside it once, and then nuzzled the short hairs that led down towards Harry's privates. 

Harry couldn't help himself. He giggled. 

Snapping his head up, Draco gave Harry an annoyed look. "That's not the usual response I get when I do this."

Clapping a hand over his mouth, Harry giggled again. "It tickles."

"Oh for..." Draco sighed, and hooked his thumbs behind the waistband of Harry's shorts. "Then let me move on to that part that will definitely not tickle, you twit."

Harry raised a hand, perhaps with the intention to stop Draco, but he stilled it halfway in the air when Draco pulled his boxers down and exposed his hard prick. 

"But this is my favorite part of you by far." Draco glanced up at Harry from under his dark eyelashes and darted his tongue out. Harry watched breathlessly how that pink tip touched the head of his cock. 

"God," he gasped, his hips jerking, because it tickled but not in a bad way. 

"Draco," Draco corrected, and licked at Harry's prick again, his tongue teasing the moist slit. Harry's hand, which had still been hovering in the air, decided without Harry's instructions to rest on Draco's head, urging him to go on. Harry couldn't find it in himself to correct it, and stroked Draco's hair while he gently bucked his hips up. 

"Ask me." Draco looked up, his fingers kneading Harry's thighs. 

"God," Harry gasped again. "Do...that."

"Do what?" Draco licked up the shaft of Harry's cock once, and gave Harry a sly smile. 

"Do... _that_."

"Not good enough." Draco made to pull away from Harry, and Harry's fingers tightened in Draco's hair. 

"Suck!" he yelled, and snapped his mouth shut, surprised by his own volume. "Suck...my...cock...please."

"That's much better," Draco said, and cupped Harry's sac. Then he leaned his head down again and swallowed Harry's cock.

It had to be the best feeling in the whole bloody world, Harry decided as he bucked his hips up and grabbed at the sheets beneath him. Draco's lips stroking, his tongue licking and his throat sucking him down so far it almost hurt. Almost. But not quite. 

"Oh my..." Harry's breath got cut off by a deep groan that forced its way out, and all Harry could do was lie there and hope he wouldn't come at once. "God, that's good. That's so good."

Draco pulled back and hummed around the head of Harry's cock, his tongue poking at the slit. Harry's legs trembled and he spread them, unsure what else to do. 

"Watch me, Harry," Draco said, briefly releasing Harry's cock. Harry glanced down at him and saw that Draco had one hand curled around his own prick, stroking it from head to base. Then Draco lowered his mouth around Harry's cock again, and Harry moaned, unable to look away. 

He was watching another man wank, and it had to be the most erotic thing Harry'd ever seen in his life. That sight, combined with the feeling of Draco's wicked mouth around his hard flesh, threw Harry over the edge, and he tugged on Draco's hair, thinking he should at least warn him. 

But Draco kept sucking and sucking as Harry exploded inside his mouth. Harry's thighs tensed and his back arched as he spurted his release down Draco's throat, his eyes squeezed shut. And then slowly, he relaxed his body, shuddering at the feeling of Draco's tongue licking his spent cock. 

Draco let go of Harry's prick and pushed himself up, his face hovering above Harry's while his lips tugged up in a smile. 

"You usually last longer than that."

"I'm sixteen," Harry muttered. 

"What?"

"Nothing." 

Draco pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, and stretched out beside him. "Look at me. I love it when you watch me come."

Rolling on his side, Harry watched how Draco let his legs fall open while he stroked his hard cock. Draco had a rather nice cock, Harry decided. 

Shifting closer, Draco nuzzled Harry's cheek, his lips brushing over Harry's heated skin. "Touch my sac."

Harry felt torn at the idea of touching another bloke's privates, but he had to admit that the sight of Draco stroking his cock was so bloody arousing he couldn't help wanting to be a part of that. So he inched his hand down over Draco's chest, stroked his thigh with trembling fingers and finally closed his palm around Draco's tight sac. 

"Yes, so good," Draco moaned, stroking faster around his cock. "Kiss me."

That Harry felt more comfortable with, and he lowered his face. When his lips touched Draco's, he slid his tongue inside Draco's mouth and was surprised how much he wanted to kiss Draco. Their kiss was hungry and even a bit clumsy, and Harry realized that the slightly bitter, tangy taste in Draco's mouth was his own release. 

"Touch my cock, Harry, Please, make me come," Draco whispered against Harry's lips, and Harry stared down in Draco's eyes and didn't think he'd ever seen Draco that vulnerable before. It looked...arousing, somehow, and before he knew what he was doing, Harry squeezed Draco's sac one last time and then closed his fingers around Draco's cock. 

"Yeah, that's it. Harder." Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and Harry kept staring at his face while he moved his fist over Draco's cock. He couldn't quite believe he was wanking another bloke, but somehow the feeling of a cock in his hand – a cock that wasn't his own – felt as natural as flying a broomstick. 

Draco looked beautiful, Harry realized, and he never thought he'd ever think of another man as beautiful. Draco's cheeks were flushed and his lips were moist and slightly swollen from their kiss. He looked so relaxed and at ease, unlike Harry'd ever seen him before. 

"Almost, Harry, almost," Draco moaned, bucking his hips up. Harry squeezed harder and stroked faster and then felt Draco tense for a moment before his hot release spurted over Harry's fingers. Draco's lip curled up and he licked across his bottom lip as he opened his eyes and stared up at Harry. 

"Good?" Harry asked, hoping he'd done it right. 

"Yes, very," Draco said, and stretched his arms over his head. 

Harry glanced down at his own hand still touching Draco's prick and the white strings of come on Draco's pale skin. "You look really beautiful when you...you know," Harry whispered, and then wondered where the hell that had come from.

Draco smiled and leaned closer to Harry, resting his cheek against Harry's shoulder. Harry finally released Draco's softening prick and hesitantly wrapped his arm around Draco's waist. 

"You're definitely still suffering from amnesia," Draco said with a soft chuckle. "You normally hate to snuggle."

"I do?" Harry asked, thinking that lying close together after a couple of orgasms felt rather nice. 

"Yes. So let's just enjoy it while we can." Draco pressed even closer and Harry ended up with his nose in Draco's hair, which didn't feel bad at all. Draco smelled nice. 

They lay like that for a while, Draco pressing soft kisses to Harry's chest and Harry stroking his hand over Draco's back. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt that relaxed before, despite the fact that he was snuggling with Draco Malfoy. 

But the questions about that strange world he remembered kept gnawing at his mind, and after a while Harry pulled back and stared into Draco's eyes. 

"There's something I have to tell you," he said. Draco nodded for him to go on. "And I'm really not mad or anything, but I have these odd memories."

"All right," Draco said, giving Harry a kiss. "Let's hear it."

And Harry told him everything. As they lay there naked, spent, Harry poured out what he remembered of Voldemort, his parents, his friends, Sirius, Draco and even Lucius Malfoy. He finished with the evening he was serving detention in Snape's classroom, and when he finally closed his mouth his throat was dry. 

Draco hadn't interrupted him once, but had listened to every word he'd said with a curious gaze. After Harry fell silent, he pushed himself up against the headboard and reached for his wand. Harry was pleasantly surprised when Draco summoned a glass of water for him. 

Harry sipped it and looked at Draco, anxious for his response. 

"That's quite the story, Harry," Draco finally said, and Harry was about to feel defensive when Draco continued. "But it seems that the moment things shifted you were brewing a potion."

Harry nodded, worrying his lip. 

"I have no idea what could have happened. However, I know someone who can help you."

Harry nodded again. 

Staring down, Draco looked as if he had trouble finding the right words for a moment. When he glanced up at Harry, he almost looked apologetic. "You won't like this."

"What? Who is it?"

"Snape."

*~*~*~*~*

Harry sat on his couch and tapped his foot against the carpet. The previous night, he and Draco had decided to visit Snape the next day, and now Harry was waiting for his boyfriend – no, that didn't sound right – his lover – oh, no, Harry wasn't at all ready to think of Draco as his lover – Draco to arrive.

And with a loud crack, Draco suddenly apparated inside Harry's living room. "Hello, love. Sleep well?"

Harry swallowed and was unable to resist a smile. "Yeah," he said. Draco had left shortly after their talk about Harry's memories, and somehow Harry'd felt rather lonely without him. 

"Good." Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up from the couch. He smiled at Harry, and Harry let Draco kiss him. In fact, he even kissed Draco back. It started to feel normal to be kissing Draco. 

"Ready to go?" Draco asked. 

"Yeah," Harry said. "I don't know what you were getting at last night, but while I may not like Snape a whole lot, if he can help me sort this out, I'm fine with that. 

Draco shook his head. "It's not your response I'm worried about. It's Snape's."

"Huh?"

Chuckling, Draco cupped Harry's chin and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Let's just say that you made the seven years you attended Hogwarts a living hell for poor Severus."

"A living hell?" Harry gulped. 

"Yes. You started by spreading all these horrible stories of Snape's Hogwarts years, and later on you moved to rather vicious pranks."

Harry blinked, and then he remembered what he'd seen in Snape's Pensieve. "I did...that? I couldn't have done that."

"You did." Draco released him and offered a small smile. "We can argue about that later, but right now I suggest we apparate to the Hogwarts gates."

"Um...I don't remember how to apparate." Harry scuffed his shoe in the carpet, glancing down. 

"Oh for..." Draco grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him to the fireplace. "We'll floo to the Three Broomsticks and walk from there. Let's go."

Harry held onto Draco's hand with all his might as the green flames transported them halfway across the country.

*~*~*~*~*

"Let me do the talking," Draco said for the umpteenth time as they stepped inside the Entrance Hall.

Harry nodded. He didn't think he'd be able to even look at Snape after what he'd learned about his own behavior. 

"You don't say a word. Not one word, understood?" Draco glanced at Harry and gave him a stern look. Harry nodded again, inhaling a deep breath. 

Their walk to Hogwarts had been nice. It had surprised Harry, but it was easy to talk to Draco about all sorts of things. Quidditch, mostly, but also their parents and friends and general life in the wizarding world. And while Harry had no problem chatting with Draco, now he was at a loss for words. He needed Snape's help, but Snape hated him. Truly, genuinely hated him, not just for something his father had done, but for things Harry himself had done. 

As they descended the stairs to the dungeons, Harry's stomach dropped. 

They halted in front of Snape's office, and after giving Harry one last pointed look, Draco raised his fist and knocked. 

After a few moments, the door creaked open and Snape's face came into view. Harry stood halfway behind Draco and pursed his lips, noticing that while Snape's face looked very much like he remembered it, Snape's hair was almost completely gray. 

"Draco, what do you want?"

"Hello, Severus," Draco said pleasantly. He took a step forward, and suddenly Snape's eyes widened as he noticed Harry. 

Harry tried to give Snape an honest smile. And Snape's response was to slam the door shut. 

"Harry," Draco started, glaring at him. 

"I didn't say anything."

"Don't move. Don't even breathe," Draco said, and knocked on the door again. 

It opened, revealing a menacing-looking Snape. 

"Please, Severus," Draco said quickly. "Harry's not well. He's taken a Bludger to the head and –"

Snape sneered. "Then I wish him all the permanent brain damage in the world. Good day."

The door slammed shut in their faces again. 

Draco sighed, and knocked on the door once more. "But Harry remembers a potion gone wrong. He doesn't recognize this world at all. He only remembers serving detention for you and a potion exploding in his face."

For a few moments, nothing happened, and then the door creaked open again. Snape stared at them with narrowed eyes, and curved one dark eyebrow. "A potion went wrong?"

"Yes," Draco said, sounding relieved. "I don't think this is our Harry."

Snape stood motionless for a moment, and looked as if he were making a difficult decision, and then finally he opened the door to let Draco in. When Harry wanted to cross the threshold, Snape blocked his way and bared his crooked teeth. 

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter one sound, Snape cut him off. 

"What potion were you brewing, Potter?"

Glancing around Snape, Harry looked at Draco, who gave him a short nod. "A Memory Potion, sir."

"Which one?"

Harry blinked. There was more than one Memory Potion? "Um...I'm not sure."

Snorting, Snape stepped aside and waved Harry inside his office. "Sit. Both of you."

And as if they were both still students, Harry and Draco sank down in the chairs in front of Snape's desk, keeping their mouths shut and their backs straight. Snape looked over one of his bookshelves, grabbed a book and put it down in front of Harry, flipped open on a chapter about Memory Potions. 

"Which one?" Snape asked again. 

Glancing at the book, Harry tried to remember exactly what he'd been brewing, and then pointed his finger at the first potion listed on the page. 

"And how exactly did you manage to ruin a simple potion like that?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and thought back to what he'd been doing that night in Snape's classroom. "I wasn't sure how many drops of toad bile to add. And I had some problems with the crushed beetle eyes, I think."

"You think," Snape repeated, circling his desk towards his own seat. "That would be a first, Potter." He sat down, folded his hands on top of his desk and stared at Harry, who looked away.

"However, it seems that I was correct in the first place. Draco, perhaps it would be best to have your...friend committed to St Mungo's psychiatric ward."

"What?" Draco looked as confused as Harry felt. 

"Permanent brain damage. The potion Potter identified, even if the ingredients are added in the incorrect amounts, isn't strong enough to transport anyone through time or alternate universes."

"That can't be right," Harry whispered, more to himself than to the others. 

Snape looked positively happy. "Oh, but I'm afraid that it is, Potter. That feeble mind of yours has finally caved."

Draco glanced at Harry, and for a moment Harry was afraid Draco would reject him. But Draco gave him a small smile, which warmed Harry's insides. 

Leaning over his desk, Snape managed a very unpleasant smile. "Or perhaps your perfect little life is but a dream, Potter."

Swallowing, Harry glanced at Draco again and tried to comprehend that. A dream? Why on earth would he dream he was an awful person who was in love with Draco Malfoy?

Wait a second. 

In love?

Oh no. Harry inwardly shook himself. That Bludger must have hit him very hard, he thought desperately. 

"That's all the assistance I have to offer you," Snape said. 

"All right. Thank you." Draco got up, and gestured for Harry to do the same. "May we use your Floo?"

"If that will get you out of my office quicker, then by all means." Snape waved at the fireplace. 

Harry followed Draco, not quite sure what he was doing and where he was going. He still couldn't shake the idea that it was all just a dream.

*~*~*~*~*

"How long are you going to sulk like this?" Draco demanded, standing in the middle of Harry's living room, his arms crossed over his chest.

Harry sat on the couch and stared up at Draco. Ever since they'd returned from Hogwarts, all Harry had been doing was sitting and staring. 

"I'm not sulking," he said. "I'm thinking."

"What about?" Draco lowered himself to the couch beside Harry, and Harry didn't even mind that Draco put a hand on his thigh. 

"What Snape said. What if this is all just a dream?"

"I hardly think I'm just a dream," Draco said, and gave Harry a teasing smile. 

Harry snorted. "Yeah. I don't think I could ever imagine doing those things with you."

Chuckling, Draco leaned closer and flicked the tip of his tongue at Harry's earlobe. "You don't have to imagine them. I'm right here, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Harry whispered, feeling oddly shy. Draco was there, and Harry had to admit that the things they'd been doing the past two days had been rather pleasant. And if it was all just a dream, there wasn't a problem with trying a few more things. 

Staring into Draco's eyes, Harry leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips. When Draco didn't draw back, Harry kissed him again and this time deepened their kiss. He released a sigh as he sagged against Draco, who wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him even closer. 

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Harry asked, licking his lips. 

"I thought you'd never ask." Draco grinned and pulled Harry to his feet.

They walked to the bedroom in silence, and inside Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and looked up at Draco, unsure how to suggest what he'd like to do. 

"You really don't remember any of the brilliant sex we've had, do you?" Draco sat down beside him, his smile amused. 

"Nope," Harry said with an awkward shrug. "But there was this one picture..."

"Yeah?" Draco looked eager. 

"Well, I'm not sure what you were doing or why you'd ever want to be doing that."

"What was I doing, Harry?"

"Youstuckyourtongueinmyarse," Harry mumbled, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. 

It took Draco a moment to decipher Harry's words, and then a wide grin appeared on his face. "It's called rimming, and you love it. As do I."

"There's a word for it?"

"Of course. But perhaps it would be best if I just showed you." Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed him onto the bed. 

"No, really, you don't have to do that," Harry protested, his eyes wide. He still couldn't imagine anyone wanting to do that voluntarily.

"But I want to," Draco said, leaning over Harry. "I love to."

Harry still felt uncertain but gave Draco a small nod anyway. If it really felt horrible he could always suggest a blowjob. He'd liked the blowjob. 

"Take off your clothes." Draco started on his own robes and Harry followed his example. Within a minute both of them were sitting on the bed naked, and Harry gave Draco an insecure look, unsure how to proceed. 

"Get on your hands and knees," Draco said. Harry complied, and felt very self-conscious with his bare arse sticking in the air. "Relax," Draco whispered, running a hand down Harry's spine as he moved between Harry's legs. "You'll love this, I guarantee you."

"Okay." Harry lowered his head, resting his forehead on the pillow. His cock sure as hell didn't seem to have any problems with it and hardened even further. 

Draco cupped Harry's arse cheeks and spread them with a gentle touch. For a moment, nothing happened, and then Harry felt hot breaths ghost over his pucker. That touch alone made his hips jerk, and he forced himself to stay still. The moist tip of Draco's tongue pushed against his entrance, and Harry couldn't help himself and let out a soft shriek. 

Chuckling, Draco spread his cheeks further and licked across Harry's tight ring of muscles. Harry closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, and had to conclude that it didn't feel that bad. Thus far. Draco's tongue returned and stabbed against his pucker, making Harry's thighs tense and his cock twitch. 

"Not bad," Harry moaned, and bit his lip when he felt one of Draco's hands squeeze around his cock. "Not bad at all."

"It'll get even better," Draco said, and slid the tip of his tongue inside Harry's body. "Much better."

And just as Harry got used to the feeling of something hot and moist teasing that part of his body, a finger caressed his entrance. 

"Relax, Harry."

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling anything but relaxed. Someone was stroking his cock and fingering his arse. There was no way he could feel relaxed when his body felt on fire and all his cock wanted was to come. 

Gently, Draco eased his finger inside, and Harry gasped at the unexpected feeling flaring through his body. 

"Told you," Draco said, sounding smug. 

All Harry could do was take deep breaths, unable to stop thinking someone had their finger stuck inside his arse. Not that it felt bad. Not at all. But the idea was rather intimidating. 

Draco moved his finger in and out of Harry's body with slow strokes, meanwhile licking around Harry's pucker with teasing flicks of his tongue. 

"Can you imagine having my cock in there, Harry?"

Snapping his head up, Harry glanced at Draco over his shoulder. "I dunno. Perhaps."

"It feels even better if I touch that spot with my cock. If I fuck you." Draco seemed serious enough, Harry thought. 

 

"You want to...um...fuck me?" he asked, his voice cracking. 

"Very much so," Draco replied, still stroking across _that_ spot with his finger. 

Harry worried his lip. "I've never done that before. Not that I can remember, anyway."

"I know. I was very gentle when I fucked you for the first time, Harry."

"It has to be like that, then." Harry couldn't believe he was agreeing to it, but he was overwhelmed by all the arousal he felt and how much the idea of being fucked turned him on. 

Draco snorted. "I suggest we don't do exactly like our first time." He slowly withdrew his finger from Harry. "Turn over on your back."

"Why not?" Harry asked as he did what Draco told him. 

"Because you thought that doing it in Greenhouse three was a brilliant idea, and right when I had my cock buried inside your arse, Sprout walked in."

Harry clapped a hand over his eyes and snorted with laughter. "You're having me on."

"I'm afraid not." Draco leaned towards the nightstand and grabbed a small tube from the drawer. "We got detention for a month."

Still snickering, Harry looked up at Draco and realized that he did feel relaxed, despite the notion that someone was about to put their cock in his arse. Draco smiled at him, squeezed some of the clear gel on his fingers and reached for Harry's arse. 

"Spread your legs. I'm just going to prepare you."

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, as he'd seen himself do in one of the photos under his bed. 

"Perfect. You look so gorgeous like this." Draco positioned himself between Harry's legs and leaned over him while he slid a slick finger inside Harry's entrance. "Tell me if it hurts."

"Feels all right," Harry said, and moaned when Draco touched that spot inside him again. Then Draco slid a second finger inside, drawing another moan from Harry. "Still good."

Draco lowered his head and captured Harry's lips in a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue inside at the same pace as his fingers. Harry thought he might come from that feeling alone and wriggled beneath Draco, both in an attempt to get more and have him slow down. 

"I think you're ready." Draco eased his fingers out and spread some lubricant on his cock. Harry watched him and felt flutters of excitement spread through his body. He was about to have sex. Perhaps not the kind of sex he'd always imagined having, but still, this was real, genuine, honest-to-god sex.

"Yeah," Harry whispered, and pulled his knees up even further. Draco offered him a smile and positioned his prick. Harry felt the head press against his pucker and for a moment he thought it would never ever fit, but then Draco thrust and Harry felt an inch or so slide inside. 

"Oh fuck," he groaned, staring up at Draco in amazement. 

"Exactly," Draco said, wrinkling his nose as he pushed inside further.

Harry tensed for a moment, because it felt so odd and so full. But it didn't hurt, not really. Draco stilled his hips and waited, and after taking a few deep breaths Harry nodded at him to go on.

"You feel so unbelievably good, Harry," Draco whispered, and pushed inside all the way, leaning down over Harry. His breaths coming in short gasps, Harry cupped the back of Draco's neck and kissed him. The feeling of a cock sliding in and out of him was good, and the idea of having Draco fuck him was brilliant. 

"I think...I might be...gay," Harry said in between moans. Draco snickered against his cheek, thrusting his hips harder and harder, his cock hitting the right spot every time, sending sharp surges up Harry's sac. "I want to come," Harry moaned. "Have to...come."

Draco didn't say a word and reached for Harry's stiff cock. Harry let his eyes fall shut when he felt Draco's fingers tighten around it, and he knew he wouldn't last long, not now he was having real sex and there was a cock thrusting inside his arse and Draco was pressing kisses down his throat. 

"Oh god yes," he moaned, bucking his hips up and arching his back. "Oh fuck yes, that's it. Please, Draco, please." He wasn't sure what he was saying, and all he wanted was more and harder and faster and he never wanted to wake up if it all was only a dream because he didn't think he'd ever felt that good before in his life. 

"Fuck, Draco." Harry spilled his release over Draco's fingers, his arse clenching around Draco's cock, and he thought he might pass out as he was unable to inhale enough air from the force of his climax. "Fuck, yes, fuck."

"Gorgeous. You look so gorgeous," Draco mumbled against Harry's neck, his cock still thrusting hard inside Harry, and Harry didn't want him to stop, not now, not ever, and he wrapped both his arms around Draco's back, holding him as close as he could. 

Draco had his face buried in the crook of Harry's neck, and Harry felt his lips suck at his skin before teeth sunk into his flesh at the moment Draco came. Draco's whole body shuddered and his hips jerked as he spurted his seed deep inside Harry. 

Nuzzling Draco's hair, Harry let his limbs fall to the bed, feeling utterly satisfied. Not to mention exhausted. 

"Good?" Draco asked as he lifted his head up. Harry grinned at him and gave a nod. He didn't trust his voice at that moment. Draco grinned back and licked over the small mark he'd left on Harry's throat. "I thought it was brilliant. It felt like fucking you for the first time all over again."

"Yeah," Harry whispered, raising one arm to stroke Draco's lower back. "It felt very good."

"So you'll want to have more sex?" Draco asked, a teasing gleam in his eyes. 

"Definitely. Though next time, I get to fuck you." 

"I can't argue with that." Draco relaxed on top of Harry, his softening cock still buried inside Harry's arse. Harry didn't mind the feeling at all. "I don't think I can move anytime soon."

"You don't have to," Harry whispered, and looked at Draco, suddenly feeling unsure again. "You can stay here. If you want."

"I want," was all Draco said. His eyes were shut and a smile played around his lips. "I love you, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened, and for a moment he was worried he'd transform again in shock. But he managed to push the tingle of magic back, and he stared at Draco. But Draco seemed sound asleep, and Harry stroked his fingers through Draco's hair. 

"You're not so bad yourself, Malfoy," he said, and then allowed his own eyes to close and sleep to claim him.

*~*~*~*~*

"I demand an explanation for this, Potter!"

"Hm," Harry said, not wanting to wake up, but there was a voice yelling somewhere nearby. "Not yet, Draco."

The silence that followed was so heavy, Harry was sure he could feel it press on his chest. He slowly woke up and realized that his mattress had suddenly turned to stone. 

"Potter! Wake up!"

Harry snapped his eyes open and stared into Snape's face. He let out a surprised shriek and scrambled backwards. 

"What are you doing sleeping on my floor?" Snape asked, his narrowed eyes shooting fire. "Do you believe you can spend a detention napping?"

Harry gaped up at Snape, and then looked past him. He was inside the Potions classroom. His bag stood beside the desk a few feet away. His detention. He remembered his detention. 

It seemed that Snape had been right all along. He'd woken up. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, feeling miserable and confused. "I...slipped and hit my head. I'll finish my detention tomorrow." Harry had no idea what he was saying, because his mind was still busy remembering what had happened the past few days. Or rather, what he'd dreamed. "I'm really sorry for having looked inside your Pensieve, sir. I would never tell anyone, I swear."

Snape took a step backwards, his glare changing from anger to bewilderment. There was silence for a moment, and then he snapped, "Get out, Potter. Now."

Harry scrambled to his feet, threw his things into his bag and then hurried out of the classroom without giving Snape a second glance. He ran towards Gryffindor Tower, but decided to take a slight detour, as he still felt too confused to face his friends. He fled into the nearest restroom and slammed the door shut behind him. 

It couldn't have all just been a dream. Why would he dream about Draco bloody Malfoy fucking him? Why would he dream he was gay, for fuck's sake?

Leaning his hands on a sink, Harry stared into the mirror. 

It couldn't have been a dream. Something must have happened with that stupid potion, no matter what Snape said. 

Harry glanced down, and noticed a smudge on his throat. He leaned closer to the mirror, pushed his glasses up his nose, and saw that it wasn't a smudge but a reddish mark. 

Teeth marks. 

Right where Draco had bitten him when he came. 

It wasn't a dream!

Despite feeling relieved, Harry still wasn't sure what that meant. Where had he been? What had been going on? 

He'd ended up in a world where there had never been a Voldemort. Where Tom Riddle had got killed by the Basilisk. 

Something suddenly made a lot of sense to Harry, and he reached for his bag and ran out of the restrooms all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. 

"Ron! Hermione!" he shouted the moment he stepped through the portrait hole. "We need to talk. Now."

Ron looked up from a game of chess he was playing with Neville, and Hermione lowered the book she'd been reading. 

"Now!" Harry said impatiently, gesturing for them to get up. They both did, albeit reluctantly, and then followed him out of the common room. 

"What's wrong?" Ron asked the moment the Fat Lady closed behind them. 

"Nothing," Harry said, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "Let's go to the Room of Requirement."

"But why are you in such a hurry?" Hermione asked, trying to keep up with them. 

"I've found a way to kill Voldemort," Harry said without looking at them, and that shut both Ron and Hermione up. 

Inside the Room of Requirement, Harry sat down on the couch they found there and Ron and Hermione joined him. 

"But how?" Hermione asked, looking both excited and worried. 

"I'll get to that later. First, how much do you know about Time-Turners? Or other spells that can have someone travel through time?"

Hermione frowned. "I know a few things, and if you need more information we can always try the library."

"How can you kill him, mate?" Ron asked, looking almost as excited as Hermione. 

"It's so simple," Harry said, and released a high-pitched laugh. "The Basilisk."

"The Basilisk?" both Ron and Hermione repeated. 

"Yes. It can only be controlled by someone who speaks parseltongue. What if someone else gets to it before Tom Riddle does?"

"Oh." Hermione's eyes widened, but Ron still looked confused. 

Harry sighed. "What if I can travel back in time and control the Basilisk before Riddle finds it? The moment Riddle discovers it, he'll be dead. No Riddle means no Voldemort."

Ron opened his mouth, but nothing came out. 

"It's very dangerous, Harry," Hermione said, looking stern. "You have no idea how the future may change, what impact it will have on us all."

Harry swallowed. "I do have an idea. I know what will happen."

"Huh?" Ron finally closed his mouth. "What?"

"Something happened during detention. Something that showed me a possible future."

"But how?" Hermione asked. 

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging. "I know what I saw, and I know that if we defeat Voldemort like this, things will work out." Harry didn't consider all the rather horrible things he'd done in that world. After all, he wasn't that Harry and he knew he'd never do those things if he changed the course of events now. 

"Wasn't it just...a dream? Or a hallucination?" Hermione almost looked apologetic, and Harry gritted his teeth. 

"Hear me out, okay?"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded, and Harry proceeded to tell them everything he'd seen during his trip to the other world. Well, perhaps not everything. He left certain details about the both of them out, and he only mentioned that he and Draco were friends. Not that they'd been shagging each other for over a decade. When he finished, he gave Hermione an expectant look. 

"Well," Hermione started, folding her hands in her lap. "You still don't have proof that really happened, Harry."

Harry touched the mark on his throat, but realized he couldn't show that to his friends. Not without explaining how that had got there, and he didn't feel like going into the whole gay thing now. Planning to defeat a Dark Lord was enough stress for him for one evening. 

And then he remembered something else, and as he got to his feet he hoped he'd still know how to do it. 

"Watch this," he said, and closed his eyes, concentrating on everything Sirius had told him. For a moment, nothing happened, and Harry worried it might not work anymore, but then his body shifted and Harry morphed into his Animagus form. 

"Bloody hell, Harry, you’re a horse!" Ron jumped to his feet, looking shocked and impressed. 

"Harry, you're an Animagus. An illegal one, I expect." Hermione looked rather proud, and Harry shook his mane and scraped a hoof across the floor. 

Concentrating again, Harry's body transformed back and he gave his friends a smug look. "I didn't know how to do that before I went to detention tonight. How do you explain that?"

Hermione smiled. "I can't. Perhaps you did see all those things. But you really should register yourself at the Ministry before you get into trouble."

Harry rolled his eyes and Ron gave a loud snort.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?" Hermione asked. 

"Yeah. I know it will work."

"All right. I suggest we spend some time in the library then, tomorrow. I know plenty of books on the subject, and I think that with some alterations we'd even be able to use a Time-Turner. You can kill Voldemort as soon as Monday."

"Brilliant," Harry said, feeling more relieved than he'd ever done. 

"Harry," Ron said, giving Harry an insecure glance. "Do you think you can teach me how to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Become an Animagus."

Harry snickered. "I dunno. But we can try. After we save the world."

*~*~*~*~*

All three of them had their arms filled with books as they stepped out of the library the following evening. Hermione seemed even more excited about this subject than she usually was about their plans, and even Ron seemed genuinely interested in fabricating a Time-Turner.

"This won't take longer than a day or two," Hermione said. She hadn't stopped talking since they'd set foot in the library a couple of hours earlier. "The spells aren't that difficult, and I think we can find Fairy Sand in Snape's collection."

Harry listened to her with half an ear, exhausted from everything that had happened. And then he saw a familiar flash of silver-blond hair disappearing in a corridor to their right. He stopped and looked at Ron. 

"Can you please take these books back for me? There's something I have to do."

Ron looked confused for a moment, but nodded anyway, and Harry managed to pile his books onto Ron's without dropping any. 

"I'll be back soon," he said, and then hurried into the empty corridor. Truth was, when he'd been lying in his bed the previous night, he'd missed Draco. As strange as it sounded, Harry wanted that thing he'd had with Draco back. 

"Draco!" he called, catching up with Draco at the end of the corridor. 

Draco whipped around on his feet and glared at Harry. "Potter. I don't think I've ever given you permission to address me by my first name."

Snickering, Harry took in Draco's features, and while this Draco looked younger, it still very much was the Draco Harry remembered kissing and touching. 

"I have to ask you something, and I know this will sound strange, but hear me out, please."

Draco looked as if he was about to object and Harry gave him his best pleading look, which seemingly startled Draco into silence. 

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me this December?" Harry scuffed his shoe on the floor and gave Draco a worried look. 

Shaking his head, Draco stayed silent for a moment. "Repeat that, Potter. That sounded like you were asking me out."

"I was. I am. To the Yule Ball. This December."

His mouth dropping open, Draco stared at Harry as if he'd just asked him out. Which was the case. "Have you gone completely mad, Potter? How can you possibly ask me to the Yule Ball? First, there is no Yule Ball this year, second, I'm not queer, and third, I hate you."

Harry couldn't help himself and smiled. "There will be, yes you are, and no you don't."

"Are you calling me a nancy-boy, Potter?" Draco's lips curled up in something that was most certainly not a smile. 

"Yeah, I suppose I am, Draco. But that's all right. I'm one, too."

Draco gaped at Harry, and Harry had to bite back a snort of laughter. 

"You know what? Don't give me your answer until Monday," Harry said, which did nothing to spur Draco back into action. Harry leaned a little closer. "Now you know how I felt," he whispered, and pressed a quick, hard kiss to Draco's lips. 

Leaving a dumbfounded Draco behind, Harry turned on his feet and ran down the corridor to catch up with his friends. 

 

~~fin~~


End file.
